Ice
by Blue-Kool-Aid
Summary: Sequel to Fire. Damon is forced to reconcile his mistakes at the hands of an unmerciful being - Klaus. All Elena can do is hope that he doesn't come undone before she's able to save him and tell him those three words once more. Damon/Elena. Please R&R.
1. Frozen

Title: Ice  
Type: Sequel; multi-chapter  
Rating: T; maybe M later  
Pairing: Damon/Elena  
Setting: Post-2.09 ("Katerina"); slightly AU

A/N: Hello, lovely people and happy holidays! Here is the sequel to _Fire _(if you haven't read that one, then you'll need to head on over to it and it least skim it) which takes places place a few months after the *ahem* heart-breaking events of the previous story.

Thank you _sososo_ much to everyone who reviewed, by the way! I was _not _expecting that kind of response! So thank you – truly, madly, deeply! :)

As for the alternate 'M' rated scene, I'm still working on it. I'm having a bit of trouble getting it to be what I want, but rest assured, it shall be posted eventually!

With that said, I do have a few warnings about this story. I'm not sure how many parts it will consist of yet, but I do know that it's going to be...more draining than the first, as it is going to explore some very uncomfortable things. For now it's rated 'T' but might go up to 'M' later, depending on turn of events... : ) Also, this story is set up differently than the first – using the good ol' _in medias res _technique!

Anyway, please read on and enjoy and remember to review! They really are the best – encouraging and helpful! If I don't post anything else before Christmas, I wish you all the best this holiday season! : )

* * *

Ice  
Part I: Frozen

_I can't feel my senses  
I just feel the cold  
All colours seem to fade away  
__I can't reach my soul_

_I would stop running_  
_If I knew there was a chance_  
_It tears me apart to sacrifice it all_  
_But I'm forced to let go_

_Tell me I'm frozen_  
_But what can I do?_  
_Can't tell the reasons_  
_I did it for you_

_When lies turn into truth_  
_I sacrifice for you_  
_You say that I am frozen_  
_But what can I do?_

-Within Temptation, "Frozen"

* * *

Damon Salvatore screamed louder than he had ever screamed in his life; as a matter of fact, it was highly unlikely that he had ever screamed in his nearly one hundred sixty-nine year-old existence. He was on his knees, blindfolded; his hands were behind his back, bound tightly in vervain-soaked ropes. He could feel his skin burning off.

His knees were bloodied and wet from being dragged through cool Virginian snow in the clearing of the Mystic Falls forest. He felt the stakes driving in and out of his body, with little time to heal in between, and he felt the cool metal of instruments of torture graze his bared skin. And most of all, he felt the teeth sink into his throat, over and over, as he was bled dry and then revived with human sacrifice.

Because when someone placed fresh blood in front of a bled vampire, it didn't matter how much control he or she had over natural instinct. The blood would be drunk until it was drained from the lifeless body.

There were two bodies strewn carelessly in the clearing because of this; a man and a woman.

Someone was behind him, yanking his hair back to expose his pale, bloody throat to the man in front of him; the man who had eluded him for so long yet whom Damon had not yet seen. _Klaus_.

"To think," said the cold, calculating voice, whispers of a Germanic accent penetrating it, "if Katerina hadn't run from me centuries ago, you wouldn't be in this situation, now would you Mr. Salvatore?" He gave a small, almost polite chuckle. "You should really be more careful with whom you dabble, but you were a poor fool in love, weren't you? Women are evil, charming creatures, aren't they?"

Damon didn't answer; he couldn't. His throat was raw from screaming – and those screams had been torn from him involuntarily.

"If that Petrova doppelganger _bitch_, Katerina, had not turned herself into a fucking vampire, we would not be in this situation, would we? You and your brother – whom I am dying to meet, by the way – would have lived out your long, healthy, natural human lives in parallel, without being seduced by a woman who claimed to love you both. But of course, you now know that she only loved – oh, pardon the tense -_ loves _– herself."

Damon could feel Klaus standing directly in front of him, could feel the ancient man's presence.

"But that idiot Trevor really fucked things up by falling in love with her, didn't he? Love, love, love – it seems to be all about that, doesn't it, Mr. Salvatore?" Klaus chuckled. "Poor Trevor – he finally paid his dues; Elijah saw to that. Rose...well, she's another story. I don't expect to see her showing up here to beg for your freedom."

Damon trembled when he felt Klaus kneel before him. Their faces were level – he could feel it. He knew because he could feel the cool breath puffing against his skin.

"You've become quite the martyr, haven't you, _Damon_?" Klaus snarled out his name like it was a disease, his voice suddenly rough and low. "I thought that was _Stefan's _job, if I've done my research correctly – and don't even try to tell me I haven't." He dragged a fingernail down Damon's cheek, leaving a thin line of blood.

Damon felt pure terror as Klaus leaned closer.

"But I realize why you're here; of course I don't _understand_ it, no – that would require the capability to _feel_. You're in love with the girl – Elena. Isn't it funny how these things work out, how history can go on repeating itself for eternity and nobody will learn from the consequences?"

The raven-haired man opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Klaus clicked at him. "Falling in love with a Petrova doppelganger _again_ – you and Stefan _both_! Is it because she looks exactly like Katerina? No, of course it isn't. There are deeper reasons that go beyond my understanding, but I still can't help but laugh at what fools you are."

There was a mild lull for a moment as Damon found himself silently hoping for death.

"Oh, I know you love Elena, Damon. I know all about your twisted little history; I have been tracking you since you returned to Mystic Falls, in hopes that you or your passive brother could lead me to Katerina. Alas, it was not the case. Although..."

Damon was terrified – he didn't know what to expect, and the fact that Klaus kept talking about the people he cared about only enhanced those horrific feelings.

"Although," Klaus repeated, hand gripping Damon's shoulder tighter than necessary, "you could have ruined everything by your ill-thought out killing sprees earlier this year. The man and the woman in the car? The couple camping? Really, Damon – do you not know _anything_?"

Damon felt Klaus' anger suddenly slice through him like a thousand volts of electricity. He screamed again, feeling his insides burn.

"I know you have your bloodlust under control and have had it so for a very long time. So your meaningless killings were nothing more than you trying to upset your brother." He felt Klaus's hot breath at his ear. "How petty and how irresponsible. Maybe you should have perished in that fire of the Founder's Day roundup. It would have been just desserts, wouldn't it have been? For making the Founder's Council suspect that once again, there were vampires in Mystic Falls? I've done my reading, Damon, and you are an _imbecile_."

"I've...I've paid my dues for those mistakes," Damon whimpered softly. He had almost been completely broken by this stranger and their encounter had lasted no more than two hours. The person behind him tightened his or her grip on his hair and gave an unnecessary pull. He didn't know who it was.

Klaus ignored him and continued his speech. "And _selfish_. Once again, trying to claim your brother's lover. I wonder if they know what you do when you're alone at night? How you touch yourself and call the girl's name?" Klaus chuckled darkly. "It's pathetic."

Damon felt the waves of shame and guilt wash over him as he slowly, languidly, begun to realize that Klaus knew everything about him – he didn't know _how_, but the fact that he knew about something so _private _almost made him want to weep – and in fact, under the blindfold, he could feel the angry tears forming in his eyes.

"Oh dear," Klaus murmured, "have I upset you, bringing to light these issues you refuse to confront? How about the story where Father beats you into submission, until you're crying and begging him not to? Or the one where he beats you so often in his raging fits of alcoholism that you no longer make a sound?"

Damon trembled, trying to stop the memories that were threatening to overtake the last remnants of his tainted soul. "Stop it!" he managed in a rough voice. "_STOP_!"

"Or," Klaus continued even more quietly, "how about the tale of the brother who gives love and receives none?" Klaus leaned forward and whispered in Damon's ear, "_No one_ loves you."

Something tore through Damon, even more painful than any physical harm that could ever befall him. His stomach trembled and his lips suddenly parted as a sob wrenched from his throat. He didn't know what Klaus wanted from him, but he could feel his insides turn cold, to ice, as fear and pain crashed through him.

There was a light laugh, laced through and through with dark intentions. "Hush, gequälte Seele. Ich mache alles neu." He felt the hand of death graze his cheek.

_Hush, tortured soul. I make all things new._

Damon knew the words; he knew many languages, though he had not used them in a long while, and he certainly did not believe that this man could make all things new.

"But enough of that. All this talk of history repeating itself is making me thirsty; I'll bet you're parched as well." Without further warning, Klaus leaned forward and tore into Damon's neck again. He could feel the smile on the ancient one's lips, feel the power emanating from him.

Yet through unbearable pain, he only had one thought, a thought that he couldn't let go of. And as he repeated it like a chant in his mind, he could feel the hazy cloud which surrounded this thought begin to lift, as he was driven to depths of pain which he had never known.

Images flashed through his mind, strangely calming him, even if he didn't understand them, as Klaus tore apart his throat.

* * *

_"Don't hide from me, Damon," Elena whispered before touching her lips to his._

_Her world __**exploded**__._

_His world __**burned**__._

_

* * *

_

_Damon was in heaven. She tasted sweeter than he had ever imagined and she held so still for it; so pliant and warm and – __oh__. Her blood was like sweet nectar. Stars exploded behind his closed eyes as he drew it slowly, one arm around her waist, the other stroking her hair softly. It slid down his throat with ease and he had never had a more pleasurable experience._

_

* * *

_

_"No," she said softly, her eyes burning a hole through his. "__**Here**__." She touched his throat so gently that he shivered and swallowed hard._

_

* * *

_

_As tears continued to slide down her face, Elena pressed her lips to his cheek and very softly murmured to him, "I love you, Damon."_

* * *

_He took a steady breath as he levelled himself with Elena's shocked face. He placed his hands on either side of her head and said quietly, "I love you, Elena. And that's why I had to let you go."_

_

* * *

_

_Damon's eyes, which had slowly been welling with tears, spilled over, the droplets running down his pale, drawn face. "I will forget tonight," he said in a hushed tone, the words leaving his lips completely against his will. Everything around him was __blank__ – surroundings, mind, soul – __blank__. It was white and it was void._

* * *

The images spiralled through his head so fast that he could only catch bits and pieces of them, but he knew that they were important and that they meant more than his life. There was one more; one he could just barely touch; one where someone whispered a quiet "I love you" as a fire faded in the background.

One where soft lips touched his and murmured, "Come back to me when you can."

The thought that he had finally solidified into something tangible and gave him strength.

_Elena_.

It was the only thought that he needed.


	2. Frost

Once again, I am humbled by your lovely reviews! Thank you very much. : )

I hope you enjoy this chapter – some parts you may find strange, but just remember – it's all part of my 'diabolical plan'! Oh, Katherine. Why must you be in the tomb? Your schemes were so fun! ; ) Please read and review – as you know, I appreciate your comments and am always looking to improve!

Happy Holidays!

* * *

Ice  
Part II: Frost

_Crossed that line, the line reserved for angels_  
_Once you cross that line then you are lost_  
_So best think twice before you break commandments_  
_'Cause forgiveness comes at the highest cost… frost_

-Rachael Sage, "Frost"

* * *

"_Stefan, I'm going to be completely honest with you." Elena grazed the back of her hand against his cheek, sighing softly at the jolt of electricity which passed through her as she did it. His skin was cool, but if she pressed hard enough, she would be able to feel the gentle warmth emanating from it._

_Stefan looked at her with adoration as he was won to do, but kept his mouth straight, sensing what was about to come. He pulled her closer and carefully removed her hand from his cheek before taking it and clutching it between his two hands. He loved her so much...and he knew that the moment had come for him to let her go._

"_I can't be with you," Elena whispered, never breaking eye-contact with the green-eyed boy with the gentle smile. "I love you, Stefan, but over the last few months, as we've taken our time apart, time to think, I've realized that I love you in a different way than before. I love you as a friend and not a lover."_

_Stefan wouldn't cry; that would be too painful. Instead, he nodded, keeping his eyes focussed on hers. "Can I be honest, too, Elena?"_

_Elena swallowed the lump in her throat as tears threatened to spill over once again. "Of course, Stefan."_

"_I know you're doing this because you love Damon." As Stefan said them out loud, a heavy weight filtered through him to his heart and then burst open softly, rendering him momentarily weightless._

_Elena opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Stefan placed a finger at her lips._

"_And that's okay, Elena. He needs you...and you need him." Stefan felt something burn the back of his eyes. "You and Damon belong together, Elena. You purify his soul and he sweeps yours around in a waltz that I could never dance." He smiled bitterly, looking at their interlocking hands. "I want you to be happy, Elena...and I want Damon to be happy."_

_The tears spilled over and flowed slowly down Elena's cheeks. "Oh, Stefan...I'm so sorry..."_

"_No, Elena; I'm sorry. I have something to tell you. And if you never want to speak to me again, I understand."_

_Elena smiled sadly at him. "I know what Rose did, Stefan."_

_Stefan was silent for a moment as he reached up and stroked her hair away from her face. "I was so selfish, Elena. I should never have let her do it, though I suspect she had her own reasons as well. I promise...that even if you do not love me, I know that parts of me will always love you, and I will do whatever it takes to protect you." His own tears finally fell from his eyes_

_His heart was crushed, but his courage was not._

"_Stefan..." Elena said softy, "parts of me will always love you, too."_

_They embraced each other for a long while, tears running down their faces, as parts of their hearts, the parts that they had only reserved for one another, slowly frosted over._

_

* * *

_

Klaus wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sneered down at Damon Salvatore's excruciating pain. "I've made you so weak," he murmured, knowing that Damon could hear every word. "I suppose I've punished you enough for one session. But let me tell you this, Mr. Salvatore: I am not done with you. And what I've done to you – I will do to every single one of the people you care about."

Damon cried out softly as he was thrashed with Klaus' power.

"You should bear in mind that although you are immortal and can survive my manipulations, some of your human friends – like the beautiful Ms. Gilbert – would not make it through even one lash of my power. I told you your options when you awakened. You would do well to consider them."

The person holding Damon's head up let go and he slumped forward. The remains of his black button up shirt fluttered in the cold wind. The snow fell heavier, frosting his bared skin with cold, thick flakes. His body was numb, but he knew it wasn't just from the weather.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Damon whispered. He could finally feel his wounds start to heal; it was the longest Klaus had gone without making him bleed. His neck throbbed painfully from the multiple times the older man had bled him and he knew that it would take longer for that part to heal.

"Physically, you are the strongest link, Damon; emotionally, you are the weakest." Damon could feel Klaus' smirk. "Of course, it seems like you always have everything under control, the great protector. But you're damaged – no one wants you."

Everything Klaus had said so far had been absolutely true; Damon thought himself an emotionally damaged _fuck-up_, but he had to conceal it so that no one could see the weakness that lurked behind his blue eyes. He needed to be strong, now, to protect the people he loved.

"And the only reason Rose wants you is because she's just as damaged as you." Klaus chuckled to himself, as if making some kind of private joke. "But you know what will be even more fun for me, Damon? Torturing _Elena_ and making you and Stefan _watch _as she _suffers_. Of course, if you just handed over the girl, all of this could be gracefully avoided."

"_No_," Damon spat, fire coursing through his veins at the very thought of someone hurting Elena or Stefan. "You will have to drive a _stake_ through my _fucking_ heart before I let that happen!"

"And I just might, Damon. But not before I make you watch as I drive stakes through the hearts of your entire little vampire coven. _No one is safe. _Perhaps that is the lesson you should take from this little gathering."

Damon snarled at him, suddenly enraged as he pushed down the other emotions that had been dragged so painfully to the surface.

Klaus touched Damon's chin and lifted his head up. "I know it takes a lot to break a man like you; someone so cold and emotionally blocked. I feel like we've made progress," he continued delightedly. "I made you _sob_ and you _begged _me to stop. Perhaps I've finally inflicted in you the fear that you've made others feel as you were ending their lives. You are a disgrace, Damon. I don't even understand why Katerina bothered with you."

There was a heavy and long silence, and suddenly, Damon realized the anger he had felt seconds ago was quickly dissolving into fear and pain. He could hear words echoing quietly in his ears. A slight haze danced at the back of his mind just as understanding dawned on him. "You're _compelling _me! Get out of my head!" he shouted.

The corner of Klaus's mouth twitched upward in a sadistic smile. "Yes, I can compel you, Damon. Don't you ever forget what I'm capable of – or what I'm capable of making _you_ do."

Damon could feel Klaus inside him, clawing his way around, playing with his memories, and forcing him to obey what he said. He thrashed, trying to free his chin from Klaus's hand, but the man held tight.

"Now, let us see if you remember what I told you. What are you going to do, Damon Salvatore?" Klaus smiled at Damon's pain, truly enjoying the moment; he loved the feel of his suffering as it built up, peaked, came down, and then repeated.

"I'm going to fall apart," Damon finally replied, his voice flat and monotonous, "because if I fall apart, everyone else does, too."

"Precisely, Damon," Klaus praised. He nodded at his hooded companion that it was time to leave.

In a flash, they were gone, leaving Damon to suffer alone – rendered motionless by a generous doping of vervain - and in silence, as the snow continued to fall from the dark sky, smothering the world, but not the emotional turmoil in Damon's mind.

* * *

"_Damon_!" The scream ripped from Elena's throat when she saw him in the clearing, curled up lifelessly on his side, knees drawn up to his nearly bare chest. A black blindfold covered his eyes and ropes tightly bound his hands behind his back. She didn't have to get close to know that there was something wrong. She made a move to run to him, but Stefan stopped her, grabbing her wrist.

"No, Elena! This is more than likely a trap!" Stefan's eyes took in the eerie surroundings; a clearing, surrounded by trees, lit only be the light of the moon and the white snow. He had never seen this kind of dense snowfall in Virginia, but in the past month, he had come to realize that anything was possible.

Like the situation he was in now.

"Stefan! He's your _brother _and he's _hurt_!"

"There's no one here," came an authoritative English voice from behind Stefan. Whoever it was has been and gone." Rose met Stefan's eyes and gave a slight nod, indicating that it was okay to go to Damon. Her eyes flickered over to Elena's for a moment, and then she quickly averted them.

The guilt still weighed on Rose from erasing such precious memories, and she knew that the compelling hadn't worked on her, even though Stefan never did say what he knew directly. The girl had willpower, though, quietly ending things with Stefan while keeping her distance from Damon. Elena's focus had turned to ridding Mystic Falls of the evil forces.

Now though, Rose could tell, Elena had only one thought on her mind: Damon.

While Stefan was momentarily distracted by Rose, she broke free from his grip and ran to the middle of the clearing where Damon lay still. She gasped in horror when she saw him up close and tears welled up in her eyes, as she observed in the appearance of the vampire.

Blood stained the ground and the snow surrounding him; stained his skin and stained his jeans. She couldn't see any unhealed marks, except for his throat; usually pristine white, it was now spattered with blood, partially torn open.

"Oh, my _God_!" Elena screamed, dropping to her knees beside him, her jeans quickly dampening from the snow. "Damon!" She touched a trembling hand to his arm as Stefan and Rose quickly approached.

But something happened as soon as she reached out and grazed her fingertips over his frosted skin – she was blinded by a bright flash of white light, which caused the earth to tremble beneath her. Vaguely, in the distance, she thought that she could hear Stefan and Rose shouting.

She fell heavily next to Damon, dark hair fanning out around her, as her eyes closed and suddenly, the world was no more.

* * *

_Elena blinked, her eyes adjusting to what was only white light. She whirled around – nothing. "Damon!" she cried out, wondering where he had gone; wondering what the hell had just happened._

"_Katherine?" a familiar voice tentatively asked. "I do not know what you are wearing, and pardon my boldness, but it looks positively atrocious."_

_Elena turned back around and her eyes widened as she was met by a pair of startled blue ones._

"_Damon?"_

"_The one and only. Now, Katherine, I know that you always must have the newest style, but..." A look between puzzlement, amusement, and disgust crossed his fine features as he observed her blue jeans and lavender sweater._

_For a moment, Elena's fear became suspended as she regarded the Damon in front of her. White linen shirt, stiff grey slacks, brown boots...and slightly long, wavy hair. She took a step toward him, her eyes widening. "Damon!"_

"_Yes, we've confirmed that numerous times now. What is going on? Have you gone mad?" A dark brow rose in question._

_The expression on his face was so genuinely him that Elena couldn't speak – she could only stare._

"_Damon, darling, what is taking you so long?"_

_Elena froze when she heard a languid, sultry version of her own voice asking him that question._

"_K-Katherine?" Damon turned around, away from her and appeared to be looking toward someone, but all Elena could see was white. Everything was white except for him, and the knowledge came to her as she quickly assessed his appearance again._

_And then of course..._

_...Katherine. "Who else would it be?" she asked, confusion in her voice._

_Damon turned back to Elena, his jaw dropping. "But you're...you're right there!"_

_And then Elena heard a snarl so vicious that she took two steps back as Katherine screamed, "Damon, get the hell away from there!"_

_

* * *

_

Seconds later, Elena was screaming, too, suddenly back on the cold ground with Damon's motionless form. She clutched him tightly and it took her a few moments to realize that he was drawing in shaky, shallow breaths.

"Elena," he whispered weakly. Her scent made him want to weep.

"Damon, what the hell is going on?" Her heart pounded when she realized that whatever had just happened was quickly slipping away from her, becoming nothing more than a foggy memory. She blinked in genuine confusion and suddenly turned her attentions to him.

"He's here," Damon whispered softly.


	3. Frigid

Hello, everyone! I'm so pleased with the positive response to the first two chapters. Thank you so much! With that said, many of you were confused by the apparent "time slip" in chapter two – all I have to say to that is keep reading to find out what happened! : )

This chapter contains a lot of reflection – characters reflecting on themselves, their relationships, etc – it's important to establish these types of things first before we jump back into the plot action!

Thanks for your continued support and please continue to read and review! : )

* * *

Ice  
Part III: Frigid

_No sleep today  
Can't even rest when the sun's down  
No time, there's not enough  
And nobody's watching me now_

-OneRepublic, "Fear"

_

* * *

_

"_Katherine, please. If you have any idea where Damon is, you need to tell me," Stefan said desperately, pacing the barrier which separated the tomb from the outside world. "I think Klaus has him, but I don't know where." He ran a hand through his hair, clearly stressed and slightly exasperated at having to deal with Katherine. He had sensed the darkness seeping into Mystic Falls – he wasn't a psychic by any means, bur he could feel something powerful. Something that felt like a blood-thirsty Original. _

_He hadn't seen Damon in hours and he said that he would be back. Normally, Stefan wouldn't have paid any attention to it. But they had promised each other to always let someone know their whereabouts, in case something should happen. He had tried Damon's cell phone, but it had gone straight to voice mail._

_He had left Elena with Rose at the boarding house, and said that he was going to go do a preliminary search, make sure Damon wasn't just at the Mystic Grill, too hammered to answer a phone call. Of course, he had lied. Because he __**knew**__ – some innate, brotherly instinct was telling him that Damon was in a lot of trouble, and there was only one person who could help him with that, only one person who had any idea about the force that they were dealing with._

_Katherine watched her former lover tug at his clothes and hair in desperation. He was damn near coming apart at the barley-held together seams. "If you want to know anything more about Klaus, you'll let me out of here," she said casually, with an inflection of amusement, as she watched a variety of emotions flicker over his pale face._

"_You see, I can't do that," Stefan snapped angrily, slamming his fist into the wall, causing the area to shake. "Because I know what happens if I do!" He wanted to reach over into the tomb and strangle the information out of her. But, of course, he couldn't do that, unless he wanted to be locked in there with her. He honestly couldn't think of a more repulsive situation._

"_I can help you," Katherine said softly, for once looking at Stefan in complete seriousness, meeting his glowing green eyes directly. "Stefan, I know you don't believe it, but I do love you. I've had to look out for myself all these years, but really, what the fuck do I have left? I executed my plan – I failed it and I failed to gain back your affections. But if you let me out of here, I can at least show you that I care about you. I can help you and Elena...and Damon." She let the offer hang in the air for a few moments._

_Finally, Stefan said, "There's no way you would be willing to do this for me, Katherine. I helped put you in this tomb. You should hate me. You should want to rip my throat out. And as for me trusting you among the ones I care about...forget it! I saw what you've become at the masquerade – killing people just to prove a point. Jesus Christ, Katherine! How the fuck am I even supposed to believe anything you say?" Stefan stood directly in front of her now, anger dripping out of every pore as he attempted to make sense of the situation._

_Katherine stood still for a moment and then brushed her hand down the tattered black dressed, straightening it out slightly. Something crossed her features – soft and pleading – that was willing Stefan to understand her plight. "I could care less about Elena – she took me from you, Stefan. But she does need to be protected and I could help do that. As for Damon..." A hush fell over the tomb as she thought. The only sound that could be heard was the winter wind whistling in and out of cracks and crevices of the dark, damp place._

"_What?" Stefan whispered, probing her brown eyes._

"_He didn't deserve what I put him through," Katherine said simply, twisting her hair in her hands. "I made his life hell – I lied, cheated, and compelled him. I suppose I did the same to you, but I never once lied about my affections when it came to you. When he told me that he spent the last 145 years missing me, wanting to be with me...I didn't know what to do, Stefan. Because after that long, it's still only been one person whom I've wanted – you." She sighed softly, looking down. "He deserves to be loved."_

_Stefan opened his mouth to cut her off, but she continued, dark eyes probing green ones in complete honesty, something that he could not recall seeing in her eyes before. "You know," she murmured, voice drifting off to another era, "the first time I kissed Damon, he just looked into my eyes, unbelieving. He seemed so struck that someone could touch him without violence." _

_Stefan glared at her. "I'm finding all of this very difficult to believe, Katherine. You are well-versed in the manipulation of human emotion and even better at spinning tales to suit your own needs."_

_Katherine ignored him, her lip twitching slightly in anger. "I wanted you, Stefan. I still want you. I still love you. But when I saw how starved Damon was for affection, for love...I couldn't let him go. I wanted to give him those things, even though I never felt them on the level I feel with you. I never had to compel him to do anything – though there were times when I only wanted to spend time with you and would have to send him away. He gave me all – I destroyed it. I'm sorry for the consequences of my actions from so long ago."_

_Stefan was looking at her, seeing, for the first time, the woman he had fallen in love with, before her own selfish need to protect herself had gotten in the way. It was a hard feeling to cope with. It gripped his insides tightly, squeezing relentlessly, cutting off his air supply._

_Damon had been mistreated when they were younger. Giuseppe was not a kind man to the elder Salvatore, and as much as Stefan hated to admit it, he had had it easy. Damon took the brunt of force for both of them, had always been protective, loving, and kind._

_But he couldn't forget that Katherine had changed all of that._

"_You changed him," Stefan repeated his thoughts, eyes lingering hatefully on her. "You made him who he is – vengeful, manipulative, and cold." He hesitated. "And you, Katherine, didn't have to see the look on his face when he realized that you weren't in that tomb. I will __**never **__forget it."_

"_Damon relinquished his innocence for a love I couldn't return. I'm sorry that I can never give that back to him, Stefan. I really am." She wanted to reach out and touch Stefan, to show him that she was telling the truth by her actions, but she knew that it was impossible._

_Something heavy settled over Stefan's soul. This conversation was nearly too much for him to take, and the fact that his only brother was out there, going through God-only-knows what made it a thousand times worse._

"_But Elena broke the barrier," Katherine said softly. "She rescued him from that dark place, and I'm telling you Stefan, if you help me get out of here, I will help you get him back from that even darker place. My blood is essentially useless to Klaus, but he still wants it. He wants me dead. Use me, Stefan. Lord knows I've used you and Damon enough."_

_Stefan had sacrificed a lot to get Katherine into that tomb, including Elena's safety. But if she could help him... He swallowed hard, feeling a small flare of trust in his heart. Jesus, what the hell was he thinking? It was crazy._

"_Katherine," he said, whispering, leaning as close as he could to her without crossing the line, "I'll let you out. And if you don't keep your word, I will waste no time in driving that stake through your fucking heart like I should have already done."_

_Katherine nodded, her eyes staying locked with his. "You have my word, Stefan."_

_Stefan swallowed thickly. "I'll get Bonnie."_

_He didn't know if she would even agree, but he had to try. And he had to do it before Rose or Elena found out._

_

* * *

_

Desperation filled Elena as she suddenly set herself in motion; it was as though time had frozen when that strange sequence had occurred. Her ears were still roaring. _Klaus_, she thought bitterly. _Klaus fucking with our minds. _It couldn't have been anything else.

She didn't have time to dwell on it, though. Her primary concern lay beside her in a heap. Rose and Stefan appeared beside her instantly, both looking thoroughly disoriented and confused.

Stefan gently touched her cheek. "Elena, are you okay? What happened?"

"Stefan, I'll explain later...but Damon," Elena said, shakily getting to her feet, gripping Stefan's hand as he pulled her upwards.

Rose tried to pull Damon up, but hissed and nearly dropped him as she watched her hands sizzle, burn, and then heal. "Vervain!" she cursed. "Hi shirt is soaked in it." _Or what's left of _it, she silently added to herself. She set him gently back on the snow-covered ground.

Elena pulled away from Stefan and dropped down beside Damon. She pressed her hand under his back and eased him upwards so that he was sitting. "I'll deal with this for now," she said boldly to Stefan and Rose. "You two make sure nothing's lurking in the shadows, getting ready to attack us. We can't risk you two getting hurt."

Stefan opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it. The two vampires looked at each other for a moment, and then appeared to form a barrier around Elena and Damon - Stefan standing to the left, and Rose standing to the right. The moon still shone brightly, penetrating the darkness, giving a slight lustre to the falling snow.

"Elena," Damon whispered, saying her name for the second time, "my hands. The ropes are soaked in vervain, too." His voice was rough and ragged, so unlike the low, teasing tones he used in everyday speech.

She quickly untied the knot, letting the ropes fall to the ground. Damon had moved so that he was on his knees, his head down. She gasped when she saw his bruised throat. She reached behind his head and untied the blindfold, letting that fall to the ground, too.

Elena could barely stand to look at him. He didn't lift his head and his eyes were still tightly closed. She could see the outline of tear tracks on his pale face. "My God," she cursed softly, gently touching the dark skin on his neck. She slid her hands carefully beneath his arms to support him. Feeling his cold, damp body pressed against hers sent shivers down her spine. His clothes were soaked in blood and vervain but there didn't appear to be any unhealed injuries on his actual skin, except his wrists, which had just begun to heal from the rope burns.

Damon gripped her. He didn't know what else to do. White hot pain continued to sear through him, burning him alive. He could _feel _Klaus. He buried his face in Elena's neck, incomprehensible sounds flowing from his dry, cracked lips. He couldn't hold it in.

"Damon, hush. It's okay," Elena's trembling voice told him. She rubbed his nearly bare shoulders, covered in something that could barely pass for his shirt, trying to warm him up. In a situation like this, Elena could have easily fallen apart – but she didn't. Instead, she demonstrated the same courage and levelheadedness that had helped her save Stefan when he had been kidnapped by the tomb vampires.

"He made me kill. I didn't want to, Elena, but he drained me dry over and over again, and then made me feed! Bonnie's going to be angry. He's coming for you – for _every one_!" The words tumbled out in nearly incomprehensible jumbles as he gripped her forearms, refusing to look up, keeping his head buried in the crook of her neck.

"Damon, _it's okay_," she told him again, trying to hold him still. God, how could they have let this happen? How easily Klaus had been able to whittle down Damon's defenses, take his dignity. "This is not your fault." She stroked the damp hair away from his face. She couldn't stand it – his pain was unbearable. "Look at me!" she pleaded, their eyes finally meeting.

Tears fell silently down, dripping first onto her forearms, rolling down them and into the cold ground, melting the snow, and then sinking into the earth. He suddenly wasn't making a sound, completely still as he looked at her. His body trembled as he tentatively reached out a hand and touched her face, his lips quivering as he murmured lowly, "You're real."

Elena sighed in relief and placed her hand over his, applying gentle pressure to the back of it. "Yes, I'm real, Damon." She slid her other hand to his neck and touched it. She wasn't going to ask him if he was okay – he clearly wasn't.

And she knew that he wasn't crying in her arms due to physical pain – it was the heaviness of the emotions. Right now, she needed to show him that she cared about him, that she wanted to protect him.

She didn't know what had happened, but she knew one thing for sure: the Damon that she knew – and _loved _with every trembling piece of her heart and soul – had been left behind somewhere. The broken, weary man in front of her could not be the same person as _her _Damon.

_Her_ Damon? As if she had the right to call him that, leaving him unprotected, not telling him what happened that night two months ago when they had confessed their love for each other, when they had burned with passion and longing – and when Rose had taken that all away from them with one cold stare of her eyes.

Away from him, anyway.

And Elena couldn't help but feel that if she had only told him that he would have had something to hold on to, something to fight for.

Klaus had damaged his already shattered soul. Elena felt blinding anger then – towards Klaus, towards Rose, towards _Stefan, _and most of all, herself, for failing to protect him, failing to keep him safe. After all, he had kept _her _safe more times than she dared to count.

As she touched Damon softly, trying to soothe him – and not caring if the gestures were revealing of her true feelings or not – she looked into those blue eyes of his and knew that something was gone. Because when he looked at her – and he looked at her often – there was always _fire _dancing behind those eyes.

And now there was nothing but ice.

The awakening, the struggle, and the fury had culminated in this dark reunion during nightfall, and Elena feared, as she stroked the raven hair, that Damon had lost his soul to the midnight shadows forever.


	4. Inclemency

Hello! Thank you, once again, for your _wonderful _reviews! I do hope you enjoy the next part and continue to review! : )

* * *

Ice  
Part IV: Inclemency

_I wanna run away from love, this time I've had enough  
Every time I feel your touch I'm broken  
Shattered all the pieces and parts, never thought I'd fall so hard  
I'm putting back together my heart, it's broken_

-Leona Lewis, "Broken"

_

* * *

_

Damon embraced Elena, only vaguely aware of his surroundings, which had begun to melt into the surreal. The moon and the snow on the ground blurred together, creating a dizzying effect as he closed his eyes and tried to suffocate the images that haunted his weary mind.

The only thing keeping him from giving into the fear was the feel of that solid, warm hand gently caressing the skin on his back and the soft, whispered words in his ear, which meant everything and nothing all at once. Her scent reached his nostrils, waking him slightly, allowing him precious moments of coherent thought.

But then there was the _other_; a voice in his head that was telling him to _fall apart _to _fall to pieces_ because that was part of the master plan, the grand scheme. And he wanted to listen to it because it would be so much easier to just relinquish himself to that _dark _place. Once there, no one could hurt him and he could hurt no one. It would be safer for everyone if he _vanished_.

If he crumbled, it paved the way for chaos and confusion. The voice in his head - the one advocating for his abdication – was strong and clear and was filling him up to the brim with words and phrases of humiliation and self-depreciation. But, he found, with Elena's scent lingering in his nostrils, his _own_ voice was still _stronger_, and with his last bits of strength, he was able to fight the voice of the _other_, pushing it down as he fought the echoes of humiliation which Klaus had subjected him to.

He'd been forced to remember the endless punishments he had received from his father, relive the moments when Katherine had been with Stefan, and reconcile the chain of events he had set into motion when he had stepped foot into Mystic Falls. Essentially, everything boiled down to one thing: it was his fault. It was easy for the blame to be placed upon him because nobody loved him; therefore it would be easier to turn him over to the darkness and defeat him.

He loved Elena but he didn't _deserve _to love her and he knew this when he felt her gentle, reassuring hand touch his hair, his cheek, nearly purifying his damaged soul. He'd brought nothing put pain and hurt into her life – how she could stand to be so close to him was a mystery. He couldn't even stand to be near _himself_.

"We have to get him away from here," Elena said to Stefan, swallowing hard. Damon was pressed into her, using her as a full body support. It was frightening because she could feel _nothingness _emanating from his freezing cold body – not one inkling of warmth reached out to caress her.

"I know, Elena," Stefan replied softly, turning to face her. His mouth was tight with worry, eyebrows pointed down in determination. "There're traces of vervain on his skin, though. It's not hurting him anymore but it can still hurt us. You saw what happened when Rose tried to pick him up." He looked around for a moment, scanning the dark forest. "Besides that, I'm worried there's someone still out there and if we move..."

Damon snapped out of his trance and met his brother's eyes for the first time since his arrival. "Just leave me here," he said softly, electricity flowing from blue eyes to green eyes. "He promised he would come back from me. It's just easier if you leave me here then at least everyone else stands a fighting chance. I can distract him." He shivered.

Elena felt it and tightened her hold on him. "No – no way, Damon. We're not playing 'who can be the best martyr' here. We're leaving and you're coming with us." She placed her hands on his shoulders and gentle pushed him back a little so that she could stare directly into those now cold and emotionless eyes.

A ghost of a smirk crossed his features. "Oh, I'm sorry, Elena. I forget that the role of martyr was reserved for you and Stefan." The smirk disappeared, anger settling into his face. "I've hurt you all enough – this is it. If this is the way it has to end, so be it."

Rose gasped softly, meeting his eyes. "Damon, come to your bloody senses! No one is sacrificing themselves, do you understand? We are all in this together now – we're not throwing anybody to the Originals. The only way we stand even a little bit of chance is if we fight on a united front."

Stefan remained silent for a moment and instead of turning away, came close to Elena and Damon. He kneeled down in front of them.

Elena looked confused. "What are you doing, Stefan?" she asked, the heated argument momentarily suspended.

Without hesitation, Stefan took his brother's face between his hands, ignoring the slight pain from the residue vervain. He scrutinized Damon's face, eyes roaming carefully over any marks Klaus might have left behind. He brushed his fingers carefully over his neck and the elder Salvatore hissed in pain. Klaus had definitely been trying to prove a point about who was older and stronger by leaving such deliberate bruising on Damon's throat. The fact that the mark remained there even after given time to heal was still puzzling to Stefan.

"That _really _hurts, Stef," Damon whispered, using his brother's childhood nickname, not meeting his eyes. The anger and the fight had disappeared from his voice again. Why did Stefan have to be so gentle, so understanding? His hands were soft on his skin and he really couldn't stand any more people telling him or showing him that they genuinely cared. They should be _ripping _him apart for getting kidnapped in the first place.

"I know, Damon," Stefan said quietly, pulling his hand back. "Something in his fangs must be affecting your ability to heal – I'm assuming your throat is the only place he bit you. It's also the only place that hasn't fully closed up yet."

Elena's heart constricted painfully in her chest; Klaus really was some kind of 'God' vampire.

Damon felt the sadness momentarily enveloped by the bitterness. Why didn't Klaus just kill him and get it over with? He certainly didn't deserve to live after all he'd done – all the lives he'd taken. He couldn't even look across the clearing to where the two drained bodies lay. He had not wanted to kill them. Klaus had forced his mouth onto the puncture wounds and then he couldn't stop because he had no _fucking _self-control.

Damon suddenly couldn't breathe, couldn't feel, as panic swept in around him and he went rigid in Elena's arms. Something came over him as he pushed Elena away with his shaky, but recovering strength. He stood up, legs trembling slightly.

Both Elena and Stefan shot to their feet and Rose moved closer.

Despite not having vampire reflexes, Elena knew that Damon was going to collapse and ignoring his face of pure disapproval, she caught him before his knees buckled. Their eyes met and all she could see was pain, shame, and guilt – a strong combination of emotions – emotions that she could barely stand to see crossing his face. They didn't belong there. Secret smiles and surreptitious smirks belonged on his face.

The way Elena supported him and met his eyes without hesitation caused a lump to form in his throat. "Please," he said hoarsely, not caring that Rose and Stefan could hear, "please don't, Elena. If you look at me that way, I can't hold it together." Once again, his _lack _of self-control was coming through. He couldn't even hold it together for one _fucking_ minute as Elena tried to help him; the one who could never love him in return. But at least he was being honest with himself. Honesty was the one trait that had stuck with him through the years, even if it sometimes didn't have the best outcomes.

Elena closed the short distance between them by very gently touching his cold cheek with her warm hand and murmuring, "You don't have to, Damon." She supported him with one arm around his waist, gathering all her physical strength to support his lean but muscular frame.

Her words were all he needed as he held her tighter than anything, nearly crushing her. Silent tears fell from his eyes, warming her skin despite the snow. It was so hard for him to just _let go_ – to allow himself to trust another like he was trusting Elena. He didn't know what he trusted her _with _but her soothing caresses were diminishing his pain – mental and physical.

Rose moved to help Elena, but Stefan put up his hand and held her back.

Damon could _feel _Elena as he buried his head in her shoulder and cried. He knew he didn't have to be afraid of his demons when he was with her, but something nagged the back of his mind, telling him that he should be _terrified _– especially that he could potentially be putting Elena in even more danger.

"Elena, I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I fucked up everything _again_. Why didn't he just _kill_ me?" The words rushed out of his mouth before he could stop them. He knew the answer, though – he was Klaus' plaything and would become mere collateral damage for everyone else. Klaus _knew _how to torture him. And he would bet his life that he would know how to torture the others, too.

"Damon, _look _at me," Elena whispered frantically. His pain was more terrifying than anything she had ever encountered. On one hand, she couldn't stand to see the man she loved so _destroyed_; on the other, if _Damon_ couldn't make it through this, how the hell could the rest of them? Their eyes met and Elena very gently tilted his chin up. "It's okay."

Stefan watched his brother and Elena, chest tight. He knew that they loved each other unconditionally but it was so hard to see it play out like this without _those three words_ actually being said. He wanted them – no, he _needed _them to be happy – because he loved them, too. Elena would always hold a special place in his heart and Damon was his _brother_, the only tie to his past that he actually cared about.

Damon's memories had been taken and Elena's had remained intact. If Stefan knew anything about Elena, he knew that she would be unwilling to push Damon over the edge with _those three words._ Instead, she showed him the extent of her feelings in every other possible way. She held him, touched him so softly, and kept him from coming apart. Stefan glanced over at Rose, who seemed to watching them with similar observation.

But Stefan silently willed Elena to tell Damon that she loved him because he knew that the weight of those words could save him. He needed to hear them because they had never been said enough or with complete truth. He knew that Elena could give him both of those things.

"Why?" Damon whispered. "Why do you want to save me so bad, Elena?"

Elena knew that now was the moment. She couldn't keep it from him any more – he deserved to know how much he meant to her. She tenderly brushed the dark, damp bangs out of his eyes and tightened her grip around his waist. She smiled gently at him, moving her fingers down to stroke his cheek languidly before whispering softly into his ear, "I love you, Damon." She let the simplicity of the words hang between them – only he had the power to accept them.

Damon's breath stopped, his chest constricting tightly, as the memory that he had fought to hold on to, one that he assumed wasn't even real, brushed at the edges of his mind. It was one that had kept him alive as Klaus tortured him mercilessly. His eyes closed as he leaned against Elena, feeling her solidarity and warmth. He let the words dance slowly through him.

_White, white, white_ - it was the only color that made sense and the only color that danced at the edges of his mind, body, and soul. White represented goodness, purity, and _love_, and Damon was afraid that if he opened his eyes, _white _would cease to exist and her words would no longer be real.


	5. Recalescence

Hello, my lovely reviewers! Sorry for the long wait – thank you for your patience and support; it really means a lot to me. I do hope you'll continue to read and review – I absolutely love your feedback! Speaking of which, I need your opinion on something.

As I began writing some more, I realized that things were starting to get _really _steamy and kind of graphic – as in, not 'T' material. Haha, I tried to fix it so it was, but it just didn't work out that way. So there are a few options here, which are basically a) bump the rating up to 'M' or b) leave out the scenes completely and think of an alternative idea. I don't want to post the scenes I had in mind as one-shot because then it wouldn't really be with the story. Anyway, what do you guys think? I think I'm probably going to bump it up to 'M,' anyway, but it's good to get a feel for how many of you are actually opposed to this! Thanks, guys. : )

With that said – read on. Be warned, though – there is still a long journey ahead for our weary characters.

* * *

Ice  
Part V: Recalescence

_There you are standing right in front of me_  
_There you are standing right in front of me_  
_All this fear falls away to leave me naked,_  
_Hold me close, cause I need you to guide me to safety._

_No, I won't wait forever_  
_No, I won't wait forever_

_In the confusion and the aftermath,_  
_You are my signal fire._  
_The only resolution and the only joy,_  
_Is the faint spark of forgiveness in your eyes._

-Snow Patrol, "Signal Fire"

* * *

"Love," Damon murmured against Elena's neck, eyes still closed, "love is such a strong word." He lifted his trembling hands and grazed her hair softly, feeling the each individual damp tendril as they slipped slowly through his numb fingers. His wrists were still throbbing from the vervain ropes, but he didn't care; he had to touch, had to make sure that she was actually real and that those words were real.

"Yes, Damon," Elena confirmed, answering his unspoken question as she kissed his forehead chastely. "I _love_ you...remember?" She closed her eyes, too and willed him to remember what had transpired. "I need you to know this more than I need to draw my next breath," she whispered, moving her lips from his forehead to his cheek. Leaning forward slightly, she finally pressed her lips against his with the gentlest of pressure. His mouth was slightly cold but she could feel the underlying warmth radiating from his body and she knew that this warmth was just purely him.

"I remember," he said raggedly, body trembling suddenly against hers. "How could I ever forget?" He and Elena opened their eyes at the same time and locked gazes, sparks passing through them, causing their bodies to jolt in shock. As he looked into her warm brown eyes, he realized that he didn't so much as remember the precise events of what had transpired; instead, he remembered the _fire _and how it had burned so hot that it could not have possibly been a figment of his grief-stricken imagination. They had lit each other up, burned bright, and then had been forced to surrender their heated, dying embers to a cold and unkind darkness. He remembered the faintest of whispers, the smell of her hair, the taste of her blood, and the way he let her kindle a flame that he had been so afraid of embracing. Fear had characterized him before fire, and Elena had eliminated the fear with one simple kiss and three words, and a flame.

"Rose compelled you, Damon," Elena whispered to him. "I didn't forget because I had vervain on me. Damon, after she did it, I realized that I couldn't make you remember - that you should remember on your own, that your feelings for me were still there and that you would act on them when the time was right. I know now that any time is the right time, Damon, as long as I get to be with you. You are my soul mate, and I have never meant anything so sincerely in my entire life. Parts of me have always loved you, even when I was too afraid to admit it to myself." She could feel the tears sliding down her cheeks; she didn't care. She had cried so much that a few more droplets of water soaking the earth would make no difference.

Rose and Stefan turned away from them, giving them space. They were both ashamed – Rose because she had deceived one of the only friends she had left and Stefan because he might as well have driven a stake through Damon's heart by complying to do what had been done. But he intended to make that up to his brother fully, no matter how he did it. There were nearly two centuries of shame, anger, and hatred between them and it was time to heal their relationship.

Tears formed at the corners of Damon's eyes. He blinked a few times and let their warmth graze his cold skin as he leaned his forehead against Elena's. "I love you, Elena, but I don't deserve your love," he whispered softly, feeling despair weigh heavy against him.

Elena gently wiped his tears away with the pads of her thumbs. "I will love you when you deserve it the least because that's when you need it the most." She touched her lips to his again and murmured, "We can't hide from this any longer."

A ragged sob ripped from Damon's throat as he finally gave in. "I love you," he managed, voice shaking as he tried to slide his arms around her waist. He was shaking hard against her, hardly able to stand.

She stroked his hair, lightly touching the dark tresses, fingertips gliding softly over the base of his neck. "I know; you're beautiful because you _can _love after all you've been through, Damon. I know it's a mess; _I'm _a mess but I'm going to take care of you now – I'm going to heal you." She kissed his bruised throat as he grasped her tiny waist, trying to hold himself up.

Stefan continued to watch them, and to his own surprise, he did not feel envy. He felt something else; something that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but he knew it was some kind of higher understanding of seeing two people so in love. He wasn't jealous and he knew that he would do _whatever_ it took to protect Elena and Damon because they were the most important people to him and they were especially vulnerable right now. They were his family and he _loved_ them.

The healing powers of love allowed Stefan to forgive Damon. They had both had their shares of hardship in this eternal life, but no one had been so unjustly treated by it than his elder brother. Yes, Damon had committed atrocities in the past – and so had _he _– but that didn't make him better than Damon. They were at the final stage now, the beginning of what was sure to be a very long fight and Stefan was so unwilling to give into Klaus that he had enlisted the help of the woman who had fucked both of their lives up – Katherine. But he knew Katherine better than she thought he did; he knew that parts of her were evil, wicked, and willing to do anything to keep herself safe.

But he also knew that she was willing to do anything to keep _him _safe – and in turn, he could protect his family and friends. He turned his head slightly and saw Rose observing Damon and Elena in much the same way he was; not with malice, but understanding, and he figured that since she had something to fight for now, she wouldn't be so quick to abandon them. He knew that she cared about Damon and that Damon cared about her – and that would be enough.

Elena knew the weight of the world was on their shoulders, but she felt weightless, standing in this snowy, dark clearing, holding Damon close against her. "We need to get out of here," Elena said softly, after the long silence and after the tears had mostly subsided. She readjusted her arm around his waist, trying to grip him tighter. "You can barely stand."

He flinched when Elena's hand grazed the bruises on his hips; Klaus had grabbed him from behind and had been completely unforgiving, first snapping his right arm and then applying all kinds of unimaginable pressure to his body. It was suffice to say that he could not handle anything else.

Elena shot him a worried look and then finally motioned for Stefan and Rose as Damon leaned unsteadily against her. "I know he has vervain on him, but most of it should be washed away by now. I can't hold him up much longer." She frowned at his tattered shirt and carefully unbuttoned the rags and threw them to the ground. His dark jeans and black shoes were in tatters, too. She could see the dried blood and dark marks on him. It made her sick.

Stefan removed his leather jacket and held it out to Damon. "Put this on," he said softly.

Damon put the jacket on, shivering. He felt faint...and the voice in his head was back again – _Klaus _– telling him to give up. And he was compelled to do so.

Elena gasped, realizing that something was wrong as Damon's eyes rolled up in the back of his head.

He felt his eyes close as the earth swayed dangerously under his feet and just before he hit the ground, Stefan had him in his arms. One of Stefan's arms was locked firmly behind Damon's knees and the other supported his back. The dark head lolled against his chest; he swallowed hard, relieved to see the eyes fluttering slightly.

"Okay," Stefan said lowly, gripping his nearly unconscious brother tightly, "Elena and I will take him back to the house. Rose, I need you to dispose of those bodies and any other evidence that might be lying around from what went on here tonight. Understand?"

Rose nodded. She was worried about Damon and even if it meant staying out here alone for awhile to clean up and make sure that they weren't followed, then she would do it. Klaus had fucked around with her for too long – it was time to stop being scared and start taking action. She took off quickly, leaving the trio behind.

"He needs to feed as soon as we get him out of here," Stefan said, walking quickly to a hidden clearing of trees, where he had parked his car.

"I know," Elena murmured.

"And knowing my brother like I do, he's probably going to resist at first." Stefan momentarily locked gazes with Elena. "Please make sure he doesn't."

She nodded slowly, understanding dawning on her. Stefan wanted Damon to take her blood, which she would willingly give him from now on. "Stefan," she said softly, as they reached his car, "I still love you, too, you know. Damon might be my soul mate, but you're my _fidus Achates_." She opened the car door.

Stefan smiled for the first time in ages as he lowered his brother carefully into the backseat of the car. He turned to Elena and reached out to touch her cheek. "_In manus tuas commendo spiritum meum_."

"Into your hands I entrust my spirit," Elena repeated, whispering softly as the snow continued to fall from the sky, blanketing the silent earth. She gazed at the younger Salvatore for a moment before kissing his cheek. They stood like that for a moment before Stefan moved to get into the driver's seat and Elena to the other side of the car.

She got in and carefully placed Damon's head in her lap. "We are not at the end of things yet," she murmured, stroking his hair, "but when we get there, we will be unstoppable."

A faint peal of laughter sounded from the woods as Stefan pulled away but it could not be heard over the sudden howl of the wind.


	6. Quiescent

Thank you, once again, for the wonderful response to the last part. I will be changing the rating to 'M' within the next few parts – still undecided on which that is going to be. There are only two parts left to this story (maybe three) and I thank you all for your awesome support! Please continue to read and review. : )

On a side note, sorry that this part is so boring – just wrapping a few things up, but don't worry. The ones after this are going to be emotional, exciting, and sexual – so stay tuned. ; )

PS – "The Descent" was _fucking amazing_. Enough said!

Happy reading!

* * *

Ice  
Part VI: Quiescent

_Please, I know that we're different,  
We were one cell in the sea in the beginning  
And what we're made of was all the same once  
We're not that different after all_

-A Fine Frenzy, "The Minnow and the Trout"

* * *

"Don't touch anything, Katherine," Bonnie warned, twirling a dark curl around her finger, partly out of apprehension, even though she knew that she was perfectly safe. She eyed the dark-haired woman with disdain and suspicion, resisting the ever-present urge to drive a stake right through her heart and end her pitiful existence.

Katherine had been languidly dragging her index finger over the spines of leather-bound books on one of the shelves in the Salvatore living room. She turned a hateful glare on Bonnie and said, "I'm bored. What are you going to do to fix that? God, can't we at least play a game or something?" She smiled widely. "I like games."

"And why the hell should I care if you're bored?"

"Because when I'm bored bad things happen – perhaps to you," Katherine replied, her full lips curling into a devious smirk.

"Mm, you know what, Katherine? Stefan had to beg me to let you out in the first place; you're less intelligent than I thought if you think I wouldn't put a spell on you first. For one thing, you can't leave this house because of the threshold spell I put on it; for another, if you hurt _anyone_, it will be reflected back on to you. Remember? So don't try and play hard and fast with me because I've already won." Bonnie held the vampire's gaze steadily.

Katherine didn't reply – the witch was right.

"Besides," Bonnie continued levelly, "you promised to help us with Klaus, and more importantly, figure out where Damon might be - which you seemed to have actually done, since they're not back yet." Bonnie frowned at the clock – it was 1:05 am, which meant that Elena, Stefan, and Rose had been gone for over five hours.

Bonnie had snuck Katherine in – Elena and Rose had no idea what Stefan had done and she knew that when they found out, they weren't going to be very happy. Bonnie comforted herself with the fact that she could single-handedly put Katherine back in that tomb by herself.

Katherine sighed and sat on the couch, the jeans which she was unaccustomed to wearing rubbing against her legs irritatingly. "I ruined them, you know." Her voice was soft, almost lulling as she stared off into space, the pre-tense of banter now dissipated.

"What?" Bonnie said sharply. She sat on the other end of the couch, eyeing Katherine with suspicion. Even though Bonnie, at this moment, was in complete control of the vampire's fate, she was still weary. It was simply common sense; Katherine had more tricks up her sleeves than Houdini himself.

"Stefan and Damon," Katherine continued, "were not mine to have." The expression on her face hardened as she glanced sharply once at Bonnie and then looked away again.

Bonnie said nothing, letting the silence fall between them, the fire crackling loudly in the fireplace. The silence didn't last, however; a few moments later, the front door burst open. Stefan walked in, carrying Damon, Elena close at his side.

"Girls," he grunted, nodding at Bonnie and Katherine, "follow me." He started towards Damon's bedroom.

Bonnie grabbed the Grimoire but Katherine stared at Damon, open-mouthed and genuinely shocked.

As Elena passed by her ancestor, she resisted the urge to grab the nearest wooden object and stake her with it. Stefan had explained the situation concerning Katherine on the drive to the house and Elena had not responded well to that little bit of information. Katherine, for obvious reasons, could not be trusted. At this point, though, she was more desperate than Stefan. She would do anything to help Damon and anything to stop Klaus, even if it meant striking up a temporary alliance with the vampire.

Stefan carried Damon up to his room, the girls close behind him, and laid him down on the king-sized bed. The bedding was still crisp because the elder Salvatore hadn't slept in it for two nights.

Damon suddenly moaned in pain, grabbing Stefan's arm. "Stefan, it _hurts_," he whimpered. He was barely conscious, but he felt like he was on fire – his entire body ached and burned with a sensation that he had never felt before. _Give in_, Klaus' voice whispered at the back of his mind. He couldn't ignore it – God, no matter how hard he tried, it was constantly _there_.

Stefan looked helplessly at his brother and gently pried the hand off his arm. "I need you to relax, Damon," he said softly.

Elena sat down next to him, placing her hand on his forearm. "It's okay, Damon," she said soothingly. She looked at Bonnie. "He was unconscious and then suddenly he was awake and moaning in pain," she said, her voice tight with fright.

Bonnie swallowed her shock at Damon's ragged appearance. "What can I do to help, Stefan?"

Before Stefan could respond, though, Katherine appeared over her shoulder and gazed curiously at Damon. His eyes were open to mere slits. She observed him for a few seconds, gently probing Damon's eyes with her own. He was looking right at her, but her presence didn't seem to alarm him. "There's nothing you can do. Klaus is compelling him," Katherine said after a few moments of prolonged eye contact.

"What?" Elena snapped. "How is that possible?"

Katherine looked grimly at Elena, for once being serious with her doppelganger. "Once Klaus puts an idea in someone's mind, it doesn't matter where they are – it will stay there until he wants it gone. Although..." She inched closer to Damon.

Elena rose up from the bed, stepping in front of her. "Stay _away_," she growled, barely repressed anger leaking through her voice.

"Do you want my help or not?" Katherine snarled. "I've spent time with the man – I know how he thinks and I know what he might have done to Damon!"

Elena hastily back away, still glaring, as she took her seat beside Damon again.

Katherine observed Damon again, this time her expression weary. "See?" she said quietly, "_here_." She pressed a finger against the bruise on Damon's throat and he cried out in anguish. "Klaus poisoned his blood."

"He can do that?" Stefan said, looking from Katherine to his brother. "How is that possible?"

"I don't know," Katherine replied slowly. "But I'm sure that his fangs contain venom, and if he so chooses, can release it into the bloodstream of the victim." She looked at the man she had broken, repressing the surge of emotion that had risen up. She never thought she would ever see Damon reduced to _this_.

Bonnie had been flipping through the Grimoire. "Guys," she said slowly. "There's a cure for it."

"What is it?" Damon whispered from the bed.

The witch swallowed hard and began to quote the passage. "A vampire whose blood has been poisoned by the venomous fangs of an _ancient one _may only be cured by one thing: the blood of his or her creator."

"Katherine," Elena whispered helplessly. "Will you do it?"

Katherine took a moment to eye the weary expressions around the room, and then without pause, she dragged a fingernail down her wrist and placed it at Damon's mouth. She pressed her hand against his head and forced him to drink as the others watched on in shocked silence. After a few moments, she took her arm away. "There," she said softly, backing up. "The poison should leave his system. But that doesn't mean that Klaus doesn't still have control of him."

Damon sat up slowly, flinching, as the burning in his body finally began to vanish. He locked eyes with Katherine. "Thank you."

Katherine nodded at him as a door slammed downstairs, indicating Rose's return.

"We'll go," Stefan told Elena. As their eyes met, a slight shock passed through them. "Help him," he said quietly, before indicating to Bonnie and Katherine that it was time to leave. "Yell if you need help."

The three of them left the room, the door shutting quietly behind them, leaving Elena and Damon alone.

Damon had his head in his hands, a series of tremors wracking his body. When she touched his arm, he slowly lifted his head and looked at her. "I'm sorry, Elena – for anything I've ever done to hurt you, your family, or your friends. God, you don't know how sorry I am."

"I know, Damon. It's okay." She began to lightly stroke his arm. God, his skin was so cold. He needed blood, but with his current state of mind, she was afraid to bring it up.

His lip quivered. "It's not, Elena. Stefan may have pushed me over the edge, but he didn't make me continue my century and a half rampage."

Elena touched his cheek. "You were never that person, Damon. It was your way of hiding. You were badly wronged in 1864, by your father, your brother – by Katherine. But it's okay now because you've become that person you were before you turned. It's taken a while to chip away the layers of hatred, but you're here, absolutely exposed, baring your soul." She leaned closer to him.

"I don't have soul," he said bitterly, voice still rough from the screaming and sobbing he had done.

Elena placed her hand over his chest. "You do, Damon. I can _feel _it join with mine." She leaned forward and kissed his lips, and then gathered him into her arms. "Rest for awhile," she murmured, still feeling the chill of his skin, "I'm going to run you a bath soon."

The words had barely left her mouth when his head dropped against her shoulder. She gazed at him, and only one thing ran through her mind as she stroked his hair: how was she ever going to save him?


	7. Convalescence

Hey, guys! Here's the next chapter – _finally_. My gosh, I am so sorry for the lack of updates! With that said, I hope you do continue to read and review. We're almost at the end of this one. Just as a warning, the rating is going up to **M** for the next chapter. : )

Oh, and in case you were wondering – yes, the ending of this chapter _is _supposed to be slightly awkward! ; )

Thank you for your continued support and happy reading!

* * *

Ice  
Part VII: Convalescence

_And when you look in my eyes  
Please know my heart is in your hands  
It's nothing that I understand, but when in your arms  
You have complete power over me  
So be gentle if you please, 'cause  
Your hands are in my hair, but my heart is in your teeth  
And it makes me want to make you near me always_

-Jewel, "Near You Always"

* * *

"Damon," Elena murmured, pressing her lips against his neck. He had been sleeping lightly for a little over twenty minutes, but he was still in the same clothes: Stefan's leather jacket and what was left of his pants. She had removed his shoes halfway through his nap. He shivered, clearly still chilled from having spent hours in the cold, snowy clearing and his face was pale – deathly white. He needed blood, but his lack of interest in feeding spoke volumes about the way he was currently feeling toward that idea.

He stirred, turning into her slightly, reaching for her arm, almost as if to validate that she was still there. He was having a difficult time putting coherent thoughts and words into sentences; nothing felt real and he had never been so hollow in his life. But a part of him was okay with the fuzzy void that had settled around him, because he knew that if he fought it, he could make it to the other side and Elena would be waiting for him - just like he had always been waiting for her.

"Damon," Elena whispered again, brushing her fingertips along his cheek. "I ran you a bath - you need to get up, just for a little while. Here, I'll help you." She slid her arm under his back and pulled him into her. He looked so absent, so damaged, that it broke her heart. She vowed, again, that she would never be the one to cause that look in his eyes. He deserved warmth and love, and Elena knew that's what it was going to take to bring him back from the dangerous edge he was balancing on. She didn't know exactly what Klaus had done to him, but she knew that it would take him a while to recover from the emotional wounds. She would be his support system.

Damon allowed her to help him to his feet. He was nauseous and cold and he felt powerless, something that he hadn't felt since he had first been turned. He wasn't in control of his emotions and he knew how deadly that could turn out to be. He let her guide him to his bathroom and his senses were immediately overpowered with the scent of vanilla.

Elena turned to him, smiling sheepishly. "I don't know if you like bubbles, but it was just sitting there, so I assumed you did." She touched his lips with her fingertips before she chastely kissed him on the lips, still slightly unsure of the boundaries between them. He seemed distant and cold, but anyone would be after having gone through what he had endured.

Damon finally looked at her, blue eyes clear for a moment. He studied her, suddenly feeling completely vulnerable and unsure of himself. "Thank you," he said quietly, drawing her close to him, wanting to feel the warm solid body against the contrast of his deathly cold one. He kissed the top of her head and held her tightly against his chest.

He realized, as he stood there, letting the warm, steamy room relax his senses, that he was utterly frightened of not only what had transpired earlier, but of suddenly losing Elena. He tightened his grip on her, swallowing hard. He could never let that happen, no matter what the risk was to himself or anyone else.

Elena sensed his discomfort – she had always been able to pick up on feelings, especially his. "It's okay," she whispered against his neck. She felt like she had been saying that a lot lately, but it was the only thing she had to offer. She knew Damon would be hell-bent on protecting her, but she was just as determined to protect him – especially from himself.

Damon looked at the floor then, avoiding her eyes, suddenly very much wanting to get into the bath, to just _think_, and maybe sort through his emotions. Shame washed over him, though, as he realized just how drained he truly was.

"What is it, Damon?" Elena asked, touching his arm.

"Can you..." He gripped her tightly, swallowing hard. "Can you help me undress? I..." His body was so _sore_ to the point that he could barely stand, and even though he was barely wearing anything, he knew that he would need some help. God, he was _pathetic_. He felt anger in his chest, the only emotion he had felt recently, aside from love.

Elena could feel the blush start from the tips of her toes and work its way all the way up to her face. "Yes, of course, Damon," she answered, voice slightly shaky. She pulled him close to her and leaned her forehead against his for a moment. She slid her arms under the leather jacket so she was touching his back, gently caressing him.

Damon sighed softly, relaxing a little at the feel of her hands on his bare skin. He liked it; he liked to be touched in this way because it showed him someone cared. He hated admitting it to himself, but he had not been touched enough like this in his life. He leaned into the simple caress, momentarily forgetting his anguish, and enjoyed the physical proximity of another human being without enduring extreme pain.

Elena pushed the jacket off of his shoulders and let it fall to the floor with a soft thud. She couldn't help but look sadly at his chest; she could see deep bruises, accentuated by the outlines of lingering cuts. She hesitantly trailed her hand from his chest to his stomach, feeling his powerful muscles flex under her fingertips.

Damon grimaced, but his expression quickly changed when Elena leaned forward and kissed his collar bone, then carefully moved her mouth down, kissing his chest. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, as he tangled his hands in her hair, relishing the feel of her lips on that sensitive part of his body.

Elena lifted her head up again and placed her hand over his heart. She noticed, because she paid great attention to detail, a barely visible thin white scar in that same area. She didn't need to ask what it was; she knew it must have been from when his father had shot him. She vaguely recalled Stefan having one, too, but she'd always wondered how the mark had stayed there, given that they were turned into vampires. She kissed that, too, and then stood up straight again, placing her hands on his hips.

Damon sighed softly, gazing at her, as he finally felt the malicious feelings begin to fade away. He focused on her hands on him, enjoying the slight, almost foreign jolts of physical pleasure.

Her eyes never leaving his, she trailed her hand to the button on his ragged jeans and undid it. Next, she smoothly unzipped the jeans so that they hung slightly loose at his waist. Elena took a deep breath and pushed both the pants, and the black boxers he was wearing, down his hips, as he steadied himself, holding onto her shoulders. She felt his grip on her increase as he stepped out of the clothing that was now pooled at his feet, and kicked it aside.

Damon's breathing had become erratic, as it suddenly hit him that he was standing before her, completely nude. Vulnerability crept into his system, unlike anything he had ever experienced. There was nothing that could hide him from her now, not even clothing.

Elena extended him the courtesy of not looking at his entire body. Besides, she felt too shy in this moment to do so. Instead, she simply wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him close again, running her hands up and down the length of his back as she leaned her head against his chest. "I love you," she whispered against his skin, and she found herself questioning how one man could be so resilient, so beautiful, and so tragic.

Damon swallowed hard. "I love you, too." Saying the words aloud to her still felt foreign.

"Do you need help getting in?" Elena asked, blushing again when she realized that she could feel _all _of him pressed against her.

"I'm...I can do it," Damon stuttered.

They stood there for a moment before Elena kissed his cheek and said, "I'm going to shower in the bathroom down the hall. Please call if you need help." She gracefully stepped away from him, although her insides were shaking, and left Damon slightly stunned.


	8. Veracious

Okay, guys – I know I said the rating would be upped this chapter, but...it will actually be next chapter (for _real_)! Hehe, sorry for making you wait, but before I could into _that_, some self-reflection had to take place between two particular characters. : )

I hope you'll enjoy it anyway and if you're reading – _please review_! : ) Thank you, once again, for your fantastic support!

PS – there are only two more chapters left after this! Hold on to your seats... : ) And for a little shameless self-advertising, I've recently posted a Damon/Elena one-shot ("Revelation") and the first chapter of an M-rated 3-shot romp between Damon/Katherine in 1864 ("Desire")! Please check them out and tell me what you think. ; )

* * *

Part VIII: Veracious

_There's a heartbreaking chill  
Running through my bones  
I got my clothes but I can't really  
Feel them on  
Oh no  
Whatever I do  
I'm naked  
I'm naked  
Without you_

-Leona Lewis, "Naked"

* * *

Stefan sat on the couch in front of the fire, bent slightly forward, tightly clutching a glass of whiskey in his hands. He stared blankly into the flames, watching the flames spar with each other in an almost mesmerizing dance. Despite the distraction he found in the fire and the burning of alcohol sliding down his throat, his mind had yet to quiet.

He had said goodbye to Bonnie nearly twenty minutes ago; Rose had gone to escort the witch home. After having seen Katherine, she snapped and almost killed the other vampire. Stefan smirked in spite of his mood. He was well aware of the position he had put Rose in, but Katherine had been useful tonight; she had stopped the poison from spreading further into Damon's bloodstream and had probably ultimately saved his life.

"Can I join you or would you rather be alone?"

Speak of the God damned devil. Katherine sauntered into Stefan's line of vision, blocking out the fire, her eyes cast downward as she studied him curiously. At that moment, though, she was more interested in the drink in his hand because she had never seen the man drink without a little peer pressure first. But, she supposed, in his defence, it had been a _really_ long night.

"I don't care," Stefan replied tonelessly, not returning her inquisitive glances.

Katherine sat down next to him and stared off into space with him. There was something uncomfortable in the fact that they weren't antagonizing each other or playing little mind games; that they were sitting in almost companionable silence was eerie and reminiscent of 1864.

The brunette was the first to speak. "I'm sorry about Damon," she said softly, fiddling with lapis lazuli necklace around her pale neck.

Stefan looked up sharply to meet her eyes directly. "Are you, Katherine? Because – and excuse me if I have this all _wrong_ - but I'm so used to you lying to me that you have to forgive my suspicions. I suppose that you're sorry about coming back to Mystic Falls and terrifying, hurting, and attempting to kill my family and friends? Are you sorry about those things, Katherine? Are you sorry about the hurt and grief you've caused Damon and I? The only good thing that's come out of you and me is that I've lived long enough to meet Elena." He took a long swig of the drink, his eyes never leaving hers. He was burning an absolute hole through her entire resolve.

Katherine swallowed hard and looked down, placing her hands in her lap. "Stefan, I would never be able to write a list long enough for the things that I'm sorry for. There's only one single thing that I'm _not_ sorry for: meeting _you_. Like I said before, I didn't compel your love for me. And for the record, I didn't compel Damon's, either. The way our situation escalated...I didn't expect it to happen that way." She sighed softly.

Anger raced through Stefan and he clutched his glass tightly, nearly shattering it. "You used us. We loved you. We _died _for you. And then you _hid_ your existence from us. At least I was able to move on. Thank God Damon has now, too, otherwise he would still be stuck in that endless, vicious cycle of loving you so much that he can't let you go and trying to let you go because he loves you so much."

He took a deep breath, realizing that his voice was shaking and then continued slowly, calmly. "You turned Damon - whether you realize it or not - into someone he wasn't because he wanted your love so much. And although I have a hell of lot of my own emotions to deal with where Elena's concerned, I'm grateful that she's been able to show Damon what _real _love is." Stefan finished the drink slammed the empty glass down on the coffee table in front of them. "I realize that you 'winning' me back is supposedly part of your master plan, but know this: even if I wanted to, how could I ever trust you again? You're only still here because Bonnie put a spell on you and a lock on this house."

Katherine observed Stefan for a moment, clearly seeing the anguish and the anger in his green eyes. She was well aware of having shattered the lives of the Salvatore brothers and she knew that she could never return those pieces that had been lost in 1864.

She didn't know what to say to him - nothing she said could ever say would convey how sorry she was. But in 1864, she had already been looking out for herself for over three centuries, and that's what mattered back then – complete self-preservation.

Now that she had seen the three of them - Elena, Stefan, and Damon - interact, she had come to realize that love had great potential as a healing mechanism; there _were _more important things in life than the preservation of oneself, and love was _it. _

And, she realized, that she still had feelings – _overwhelming _feelings - for Stefan. If Elena was important to him, then she would protect Elena so she could protect him. It was really a simple revelation, but it had taken her a long while to get there and to realize its implications. She knew that Stefan would never want her again, but that wouldn't stop her from wanting him.

She realized, all too clearly, that this feeling of utter helplessness was exactly what Damon must have felt when he spent all those years searching for her, only to have her reject him. It hurt like a _bitch_, but she would do the right thing and save those whom she had failed all those years ago.

"Stefan," Katherine finally said softly, placing her hands in her lap again, after having nervously twisted at her curls for a long while. She felt vulnerable and _human _for the first time in a long time. "I'll protect you and all that you cherish." She stood up so she could leave him to his thoughts and to find a quiet place to contemplate her own.

Stefan looked up at her, startled and confused, and before he could stop himself, he had grabbed her arm. "What?"

Katherine looked at his hand on her arm before gently pulling it away. "You heard me."

Stefan stood up slowly, too, looking her full on in the face, searching her dark, dark eyes. "You're telling the truth," he whispered, astounded. He _knew_ when people were lying or playing games because he had a lot of experience with it; he especially knew when Katherine in particular was lying or being honest.

"No more games, Stefan. I'm tired of those. When this is finished, if I'm still alive, I will leave and never return. That's a promise I wholly intend to keep." She blinked, nearly getting lost in his eyes again. God, she positively ached for him in this moment.

Something swelled in Stefan's chest for a second before he pushed it down, and said a little too carefully, "It's about time we all moved on with our lives." He tore his eyes away from hers and stared at the fire, dropping his hand from her wrist.

Katherine simply smiled slightly at him before turning away; what he didn't see, however, were the few honest tears that fell from her eyes, splashing the ground soundlessly. She blinked quickly and strode in the direction of a spare bedroom to which she had been pointed earlier.


	9. Deliquescent

Thank you for your wonderful support, everyone! As you can see, the rating has been bumped to 'M.' Enjoy – and remember if you're reading this story, _please review_. It means a lot that you take the time to voice your thoughts, opinions, etc., just as I take the time to write. : )

With that said, the next chapter will be the last...I'm sad, too!

Happy reading, guys! : )

* * *

Ice  
Part IX: Deliquescent, Part I

_She sits him down in a stiff chair_  
_Rubs his back and strokes his hair_  
_Telling him it's okay to cry_  
_But he just sits and stares_  
_The merciless moon outside_  
_Has nothing now he's come to realise_  
_Only the desolation he feels_  
_The cold distance inside_

_But you and I now_  
_We can be alright_  
_Just hold on to what we know is true_  
_You and I now_  
_Though it's cold inside_  
_Feel the tide turning_

_While the priest just sits and weeps_  
_Lamenting the fact that he can see_  
_Darkness and light in so much detail_  
_He has given himself over_  
_Refusing what he knows to be real_  
_He turns away from every meal_  
_Starving himself of goodness_  
_He doesn't think he can heal_

_But you and I now_  
_We can be alright_  
_Just hold on to what we know is true_  
_You and I now_  
_Though it's cold inside_  
_Feel the tide turning_

_"What if I lost all I had?"_  
_Said the stranger to his dad_  
_And the witness was confused_  
_He can't tell what is bad_  
_Instead he runs up to the nearest girl_  
_And he comments on her glorious curls_  
_Says, "Darling come with me_  
_I'll show you a whole new world"_

_But you and I now_  
_We can be alright_  
_Just hold on to what we know is true_  
_You and I now_  
_Though it's cold inside_  
_Feel the tide turning_

_-_Mumford & Sons, "Feel the Tide"

* * *

Damon stepped out of the now lukewarm bathwater and stood in front of the tub, letting the water roll slowly off of his damp, warm skin and drip onto the tile. He ran a hand through his freshly washed hair before giving his head a shake to try it slightly.

Sighing softly, he stepped forward and reached for the clean white towel hanging on the back of the door. He wrapped it around his waist and secured it at his side with a tight. His over stimulated mind whirred and hummed in disquiet, keeping him from clear and coherent thought. He needed _sleep _or anything that would make the sounds in his head stop; there was a constant dark presence that had not left him alone since his return and he was worried that he would somehow be manipulated into giving into that darkness.

God, when had he become so weak? It had only been days ago when he was his smirking, laughing, sarcastic self. And now...now he _ached_, not just in his bones, but all over – especially his heart. He'd been drowned and resuscitated so many times that the line between nightmare, dream, and reality had become incredibly blurred.

Damon swallowed his fear for the moment and walked into the adjoining bedroom, and saw Elena lying on her stomach on his bed. She was reading one of his books – _Notes from Underground_, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. The only light in the room came from the moonlight shining through his large window and several candles that had been lit and put in various places in his room, giving it a soft, ethereal and welcoming glow. His keen eyes had also immediately noticed that she had changed the pillow cases, sheets, and comforter. He almost smiled – that had been a very sweet thing to do.

Elena looked up at him, her dark, damp hair tumbling over her shoulders. She closed the book and placed it carefully on his nightstand before standing up. She walked towards him, wearing a red tank-top and matching pyjama shorts. "Hi," she said quietly, stopping in front of him, reaching out to cup his cheek with her hand. She felt a little shy, but pushed the feeling away immediately when she noticed the extent of bruising on his pale, lean body. Earlier, she'd been too wrapped up in his the absolute nearness of him to notice them, and now, she was almost afraid to touch him for fear that he would either shatter in his fragile state - like _ice_ - or reject her.

Damon answered her unspoken questions, though, when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. "Hi," he whispered in return, kissing her forehead. God, she was so warm, so _inviting_ that he never wanted to let her go. He ran his hand down her back, stroking her a little, enjoying the little shivers he could feel in her body.

Elena rested her cheek against his chest, loving the feel of his bare skin. Earlier, in the bathroom, there had been an undeniable air of awkwardness between them and now there was none; now they were just two people sharing a quiet, relaxing moment together. She lifted her hand and began to trail it down his back - the same thing that he was doing to her – before wrapping her fingers around his wrist and guiding him to his bed. "Sit with me," she said softly.

Damon nodded and they sat down together. Her hand was still on his back and he relished the feel of it moving in slow, soothing circles. He let his head drop forward slightly as his breathing became languid and steady. He felt her press her fingers into his back, massaging the sore and strained muscles. Yesterday, he could never have imagined Elena touching him like this - lovingly, gently, and he was once again back to feeling like he was in a dream. He didn't want it to be – Elena's love was the only thing keeping him grounded.

"Damon," Elena said softly, suddenly clasping one of his hands between her own. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you what happened between us. I wanted to tell you what happened, but..." Her eyes filled with tears. "But I was so frightened and I knew that we needed to concentrate on Klaus and – "

Damon shushed her by putting a finger to her lips, suddenly turning to face her fully. He leaned in close, putting his other hand on her cheek. "Don't apologize to me, Elena. You did what you thought was best and I am certainly not one to judge somebody else for their actions."

"But," Elena continued, lip trembling, "but if I had told you, maybe none of this would have happened." She suddenly reached out so that she was touching his face, too.

Damon shook his head, trembling. "No, Elena. Sometimes things happen for a reason and I can willingly accept that this happened so that I could be closer to you." His entire resolve almost crumbled as he gazed into her dark, teary eyes. "I know that I can _fight _the pain I feel, if only you'll stay by my side."

"I don't want you to feel pain," Elena murmured, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

He smiled briefly, but his lower lip quivered as he suddenly pulled her into his arms and held her tightly against him. "I love you." He looked at her for a second before claiming her lips, gently moving his own over hers and whispering, "It's so relieving to have you love me the same way that I love you."

She pulled away and traced her fingertips over his lips before moving her mouth to kiss his neck and heard his small noise of contentment upon contact. "We don't ever have to hide from each other again."

"No, we don't," he whispered, reaching up to caress her hair as she kissed him. He remembered the _fire_ - a thought, a concept - that had seemed so foreign and far away only hours before and now it suddenly came rushing back at him in full force. He felt it in his suddenly flushed skin, felt it sink down into the dark part of himself and _light _him up through and through. He inhaled sharply in surprise and took Elena's face between his hands, as ocean blue eyes soulful brown eyes locked gazes in a jolt of electricity. "We're twin flames, Elena, and that's all we'll ever need to be."

"Yes, Damon," Elena whispered, "you're the fire in my soul." She carefully brought her lips to neck again before crawling up behind him, her fingertips stroking his sides lightly. She kissed the back of his neck and dotted kisses along his shoulder blades, trying to relax him. "Is this okay?" she murmured, her shyness suddenly replaced with a newfound boldness. She breathed in the scent of his skin – vanilla and citrus and something just so inherently _Damon _that it made her want to weep.

Damon brought his own hand up to touch the one that was now resting on his shoulder. "Yes," he whispered back, shivering when he felt her lips touch his ear, just below the lobe. He felt her mouth, the sweet little kisses she was trailing down his back and he made a small sound of pleasure as he closed his eyes, letting every single feeling wash over him like a tidal wave.

Elena kissed him once more and then she was suddenly climbing off the bed and standing in front of him. She placed her hands on his shoulders and brought him closer to her, bending down slightly. She pulled his head forward and leaned her forehead against his before kissing his mouth sweetly.

He opened his mouth over hers and deepened the kiss, encouraging her to reciprocate. Their tongues touched and suddenly he was gripping her tightly, never wanting to let go, as he leaned further into her, trying to tilt her head, to get the best possible angle.

Elena pulled away, flushed and _hot_, as she stood up to her full height again and placed her hands on his shoulders. She pushed him down on to the bed, and when he had adjusted himself suitably, his head on one of the massive pillows, she crawled onto his body and began to kiss his neck.

Damon raised his hands to grip her waist. "Elena," he said softly, "I don't know if we should be doing this." His voice was barely restrained with raw passion. It was amazing how quickly their situations could drastically change when they were together, from cold, dark isolation, into inseparable closeness; pure and untamed fire lapped at their bodies.

She simply smiled at him, meeting his eyes. "It will be okay, Damon. I just want you to _feel_." She needed him to experience some kind of physical pleasure, so she could show how him how much she cared about him; she wanted to take away his hurt, if only temporarily. She moved her mouth down his neck, kissing his collar bone as she slid her body down his as well. Looking up at him through heavy eyes, she bent down and captured a nipple between her lips, sucking hard and biting lightly. She could feel his body straining and fighting for control underneath her. She did the same to the other one, while trailing her hand down his stomach.

Damon tilted his head back and finally groaned softly, his grip on Elena going slack as his hands dropped down to his sides. He had never felt anything quite like this – to feel this kind of pleasure so intensely at the hand of someone who _truly _loved him was nothing short of divine. Every single one of his senses had magnified and he could feel the bad thoughts being pushed almost completely out.

Elena continued to move down his body, teasing him with her mouth, planting soft kisses down his chest and stomach, occasionally swiping her tongue across the heated skin. "Mmm," she said softly, smiling against his navel when she felt him arch up against her slightly. Sitting back on her knees, she locked eyes with him before touching her hand to the knot at his waist, hand grazing the soft material of his towel.

Damon's eyes widened as he sucked in a sharp breath and swallowed hard. Was it smart to be this intimate with Elena, especially after everything they had gone through? She was looking straight into his eyes, seeking some kind of permission, her hand trembling at his side. He hadn't felt like this in a long time – he was connected to Elena in every single way, and he did want to take it further. He just didn't know if he was ready, or if even she was ready, and was just trying to ease his pain. Something in him whispered that he _needed _this; he deserved to be physically intertwined with the woman he loved. He slowly nodded his head.

"I love you," Elena whispered before tugging at the towel, letting it fall open on the bed, completely exposing his body. She watched his face carefully, and noted the slight color in his pale cheeks. God, he was beautiful. His body was lean and defined; the hardened lines of his stomach and thighs would be enough to detract from the dark bruises and red lines currently tarnishing it. She moved closer, caressing his hip before slowly dragging her fingertips down the top of his left thigh.

Damon watched her, his breath coming quicker than usual as he felt _her _breath on his sensitized skin. He felt even more exposed than he had in the bathroom with her, and he had never felt this vulnerable in his entire life. He was paralyzed, helpless – he didn't know what to do but to trust her. "Elena," he said softly, the name falling from his lips, almost like a prayer. He wanted to chant it.

Elena flicked her eyes up to his briefly before lowering her mouth to his stomach again. This time, though, she grabbed his thighs with both of her hands, sliding her thumbs up and down the insides of them, not touching that part of him that was so b_eautiful, _so _glorious _and now wholly hers. She kissed his hip and moved down, trailing wet kisses and licking up and down the sensitive skin. He tasted sweet, completely unlike anything she had ever had tasted before.

Damon whimpered, his hands clutching at the cloth underneath him. He had closed his eyes, completely lost in the pleasurable, teasing sensations that Elena was providing him with. He was positively _aching _for her, but in the best way possible. He could feel everything straight down to the pit of his stomach.

Elena suddenly sat up again, and squeezing his leg, she said, "Sit up." She saw him blink and raise an eyebrow before he sat up slightly, relaxing his body against a pillow that was propped against the headboard of his bed. She then crawled over to him and settled herself on his right leg, splaying either one of her own legs over it, pressing her core against the hardened muscle. She gave an experimental rub and groaned softly, biting her bottom lip.

Damon made a small noise in the back of his throat which slowly transformed into a growl. He took her face between his hands and kissed her fiercely, moving his leg up slightly she was pressed even harder against him, and he could _feel _her wetness seeping through her shorts. He moaned, his body oddly flushed, his skin crawling with unbridled desire.

Pressing her forehead against his, Elena reached down, between his legs, and closed her hand around his stiff, aching member. Never breaking eye contact, she began to move her hand up and down, very slowly, teasingly, letting her fingers drape over it, feeling it twitch in her hand as it obeyed her will. She moved her head down and kissed his neck.

Damon hissed softly, instant pleasure shooting up his spine. The hot, overwhelming desire was so unlike the frigid cold he had felt earlier that he was afraid his body would go into shock. He hadn't felt this _good _in a long time; the physical pleasure was helping to ease his emotional distress and he didn't know whether he should feel guilty or relieved because of that. Through half lidded eyes, he was able to note her slightly ravished appearance – hair sticking up, her own eyes barely open. He could feel her moving rhythmically against his leg.

Elena watched him as she touched him and realized it was a truly fascinating thing. She couldn't help but notice the way that he writhed under her ministrations unashamedly, moving with her hand. His lips were swollen and parted, eyes only half open. His cheeks were tinged with the lightest of rouge and she could see the slight perspiration on his forehead. He was beautiful – so _fucking _beautiful. She vowed that no one would ever have him again; he belonged to her and she belonged to him, wholly and completely – for eternity.

Actual words had escaped Damon – all he could do was groan in response to Elena's touches as they grew more bold and impatient. "It's...so _good_, Elena," he sputtered, feeling his body tense significantly. He reached out to push a piece of her hair behind her ear, hissing softly when she purposefully slowed her pace and then sped up again.

As Elena jerked him harder, she saw his head thrash on the pillows, his breath coming in short pants. She groaned softly. Just watching him so uninhibited turned her on, and she could feel the wetness pool quickly between her legs, much like it had when they had first kissed. If she died with _this_ as the last thing she saw, she would die completely happy and satiated.

Damon's body was on _fire_. He could feel something _burning_ course through him, and he would be lying if he said it wasn't foreign. "Elena!" he managed, reaching up to grasp her around the waist, before pulling her into a bruising kiss.

Elena opened her mouth around his and slowly drew in his bottom lip, sucking lightly, nipping at him, while her hand continued to work him below. She could feel his entire body tighten, heard his muffled whimper as he pulled away from her lips and buried his face in her neck. She pressed them closer together, keeping her hand on him, knowing he was close. She could feel his eyes shut against her shoulder.

Damon felt every muscle in his body tighten, ready to release – _finally _- the ball of desire that had been continually building in the pit of his stomach. He drew in a sharp breath and suddenly, everything was _blank_ and nothing had meaning except for the name _Elena_. All he could feel were his over energized nerve endings as the waves of pleasure rolled over his body, his stomach and legs shuddering. He spilled hotly into her hand as he cried out her name in ecstasy.

"_Bite_," Elena suddenly encouraged, whispering into his ear, one hand stroking his hair as the other moved up and down his length a few more times before becoming still; she was absolutely determined to give him the most pleasurable experience that she could offer. She wiped her hand on the towel still trapped underneath their bodies.

Damon lifted his head and looked at her for a millisecond before giving into her demand, every sense now without a filter, including the sudden, aching _hunger_ that he felt. He bit into her neck, his fangs slowly gliding through her skin easily and shuddered when Elena moaned.

The pleasure was unfathomable_. _Elena was so concentrated on his mouth at her neck, the way the soft sucking at her skin felt, that she barely felt the initial pang. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she tried to press herself even closer to him.

Damon groaned softly, as the warm liquid spilled down his throat, and suddenly, he could remember her taste and he could remember doing this the first time. God, nothing had changed – she still tasted as delicious as before – sweet, pure and just _lovely_. He felt her press against him in need and, mouth still at her neck, he reached a trembling hand down to her shorts and began to rub over her center. A small sound escaped his lips when he felt the dampness there.

Elena arched against his hand, unashamedly writhing above him. His touch was so gentle yet so precise and it was driving her _wild_. Combined with the fact that he was currently withdrawing her blood, a little at a time, and the sensations that went with that – Elena moaned against him. Boldly, she took his hand and forced it straight into her shorts.

Oh, _fuck_. Damon's mind turned to complete mush and all he could think of was Elena's blood in his mouth and the way his hand was now pressed against her without the petty distraction of clothing. The fact that she was clearly not wearing any panties sent a forceful jolt to his barely-relieved nether regions. He grunted softly and pushed one finger into her – and oh, _God_, she was so wet for _him. _He began to move his finger in and out of her, feeling the tightness of her mould against him.

"_Yes_, Damon," Elena encouraged through clenched teeth, the only words she was able to form. She could barely see as she rocked her hips in time with him, felt his hand moving against her, his mouth on her skin. All she could see was white – she didn't know if that was due to Damon taking her blood, or the intense pleasure he was currently giving her. She didn't care. She gripped his shoulders and continued to move in time with him, feeling a few beads of sweat form on her face.

Damon added a second finger and that was _enough_ because he felt Elena spasm around him. He moved them in and out wildly, trying to take her even further, coupled with his lips now moving across her neck and collar bone.

"Damon – ah – _ah_!" Elena whimpered when she felt the convulsions. She writhed on top of him, pressing herself against him as hard as she could, and felt her entire body spasm – legs, arms, stomach. She used her free hand to tilt his chin away from her skin so she could capture his lips. She tasted the rustic taste of her own blood on them, but that didn't faze her – not one bit.

Damon swallowed her moans, as she finally began to come down from the enormous high, her sensitive body still jerking against his. He hastily removed his hand from her shorts and gripped her hips, holding her tight against him, before flipping them over so he was hovering on top. She looked exquisite right now – hair on his pillow, sticking out in every direction, pink lips swollen, and cheeks flushed. Her eyes were bright and so _aware_.

Elena studied Damon, too. She could see the not only noticeable red in his face, but the full body flush that her blood had given him. His blue eyes were lighter than she'd seen them in a long time. She groaned softly and pulled his naked body down beside her, hands and body still trembling with adrenaline and pleasure. She pressed herself against him and whispered, "I love you, Damon, and I want you."

Damon bit back a moan, realizing that he was hard again. His body had been from one physical extreme to another tonight and he was so afraid that he would fall apart, just completely collapse under the weight of it all. "God, Elena. You have no idea how much I've wanted _you_...that was _amazing_." And he meant it – he suddenly felt _alive _and the love he felt for this woman could not have been any stronger. "I love you."

Elena smiled at him, bringing her lips to his again, before caressing his abdomen, feeling his muscles jump at her soft touch. "I know." She looked at his cheeks, which were still flushed. "Do you...feel better?" She trailed her fingertips down his arm.

He knew that it wasn't just her blood that had helped him, but also just the presence of _her_. "Yeah," he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. "Did I take too much?"

She shook her head, kissing him again. "No." She brought her hand up and stroked his cheek. "Make love to me, Damon. I _need _you." She gazed up at him through heavy-lidded brown eyes.

For the first time in months, Damon felt fire ignite through his veins - his whole body - as he looked at Elena and then slowly nodded. He was positively _burning _alive, but as long as he got to be with her, he didn't _care_. He moved so that he was hovering over her, arms braced against the bed. He bent down and began to trail kisses along her neck...


	10. Everlasting

Hello, everyone! Oh my _God _– I'm so sorry for the incredibly long absence! Ugh, you won't even believe how busy I've been. I honestly had to write this in the precious few hours of time I've had over the past few weeks. I just wanted to let you know that I'm _still _busy and it won't let up for at least two more weeks. I really hope to be updating the rest of my fics by then! Thank you for your patience and understanding! : )

With that said, this is the _final _chapter of _Ice_. Wow – I can't believe we made it this far! Thank you so much for your overwhelming support – it's astounding. I really do hope you enjoy this – please review and let me know! It means so much. : )

Happy reading, all, and I'll hopefully see you in a few weeks!

* * *

Ice  
Part X: Everlasting

_In the middle of the night, I may watch you go  
__There'll be no value in the strength of walls that I have grown  
__There'll be no comfort in the shade of the shadows thrown  
__But I'll be yours if you'll be mine_

_Stretch out my life and pick the seams out  
__Take what you like, but close my ears and eyes  
__Watch me crumble over and over  
__  
I have done wrong, so build your tower  
__But call me home and I will build a throne  
__And wash my eyes out never again_

_But love the one you hold__And I'll be your goal  
__To have and to hold  
__A lover of the light_

_Skin too tight and eyes like marbles  
__You spin me high so watch me as I glide  
__Before I tumble homeward, homeward  
_

_I know I tried, I was not stable  
__Flawed by pride, I miss my sanguine eyes  
__So hold my hands up...breathe in, breathe out._

_But love the one you hold  
__And I'll be your goal  
__To have and to hold  
__A lover of the light_

_And in the middle of the night, I may watch you go  
__There'll be no value in the strength of walls that I have grown  
__There'll be no comfort in the shade of the shadows thrown  
__You may not trust the promises of the change I'll show  
__But I'll be yours if you'll be mine_

_So love the one you hold  
__And I will be your goal  
__To have and to hold  
__A lover of the light_

_So love the one you hold  
__And I will be your goal  
__To have and to hold  
__A lover of the light_

-Mumford & Sons, "Lover of the Light"

* * *

Elena let her eyes flutter closed and gave herself over completely to Damon's tender kisses and touches; his lips were currently burning a trail down her throat while one hand caressed her sides through the thin cloth of her red tank top. She arched her back when she felt his mouth touch her collar bone, his tongue flicking out to swipe itself sideways across her heated skin. He paused only for a moment to lift her slightly, tossing the towel underneath her body to the floor. God, it felt amazing to be this close to him, to be so emotionally invested while he simultaneously took her to new heights. If she opened her eyes, she knew it was quite possible that she could come _again_ just by locking gazes with his smouldering blue eyes.

Damon loved her soft sighs of pleasure as he continued to trail his mouth down her body. He flicked his eyes up momentarily and saw that her own were closed. Slowly, he lifted his head up before sliding his hand up her tank top and ghosting his fingertips over the toned flesh of her stomach. With his other hand, he lifted it up and began placing small, quick kisses on the exposed skin. He heard her moan softly at his ministrations and he resisted all urges to completely abandon the slow pace that they had set. He placed a soft kiss on her stomach before urging her to sit up so he could pull the top over her head.

Elena lifted her arms and let Damon discard the flimsy material, shivering when the cold air suddenly hit her bare, exposed chest. "Mm," she said softly when he pulled her close to him and they were touching, skin on skin. He was so _warm _against her, and she could feel every muscle of his lean body thrumming in absolute anticipation – much like her own was.

Damon carefully pushed her back down, kissing her mouth sweetly before moving down and lowering his mouth to her rounded, perfect breast. He let his hand trail over it as he sucked the nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hard bud. He felt her arch up against him and cry out in pleasure softly. He switched to the other, paying it the same kind of attention, before lifting his head up to examine the beautiful sight in front of him. Her creamy breasts heaved in front of him, the nipples now dark and rosy from his ministrations. He cupped one in other hand, squeezing and massaging gently, watching her face as he pleasured her.

Damon's touches were intoxicating, and Elena never wanted them to end. He was so careful, attentive, and loving. Every soft touch or breath on her skin sent her into fits of pure anticipation. She felt his hand slowly trailing down her stomach until it came to rest between her slick thighs. She groaned softly when he began to stroke her teasingly. "Damon...that feels so _good_." She lifted her heavy eyes to meet his, and the slight smirk and cocky half-smile in combination with his skilful hand almost undid her.

"_You _feel good," he whispered, shuddering as he grabbed the hem of the shorts and began to tug them down her legs. He tossed them to the floor and stared at her, completely relishing in her nakedness. God, she was so beautiful. He didn't care what anyone said – Elena didn't look a_nything _like Katherine, even naked. The thought had crept into his mind a few times, but God. She was her own person and she was fucking _intoxicating_. He lowered his mouth to her stomach and began to place teasing kisses along the creamy flesh, occasionally nipping at her skin.

Elena blushed when she felt his lips touch her thighs, and his tongue sneaking out to lick her sensitive flesh slowly. She brought her lip between her teeth, biting it and gasping softly when he began to nudge her legs apart with his hands, and she shuddered when he placed a kiss at her very center; it was one of the most intimate moments she had ever experienced. She stroked her fingers through his jet black hair, revelling in its silkiness. "I need you inside me, Damon," she said quietly, but her voice was emanating raw passion.

Damon flicked his eyes up to hers before slowly crawling up her body again. He kissed her lips and pressed himself completely against her. For the first time, they were aligned completely; lip to lip, breast to chest, hip to hip. He could feel every inch of her against him and it was _divine_. He kissed her slowly, exploring her mouth with complete patience. He felt her hand come up to his hair, threading itself there for a moment before it trailed down and touched his cheek.

Elena smiled against his lips, somewhat nervous as the butterflies in her stomach increased tenfold. "Love me, Damon," she whispered against his ear, nibbling on the lobe. She opened herself up to him and brought her hands up to grasp his shoulders.

Damon swallowed hard before lowering himself to her, lining himself up with her. "I love you," he whispered before thrusting into her, burying himself completely in her indescribable heat with one stroke. She fit him absolutely perfect; tightly, like a custom-made mould. He could already feel the reactions of their bodies finally meeting this way; tightness in his stomach, and her legs automatically coming up to clench around his hips.

Elena moaned at the feeling of him inside her. It was beyond her wildest fantasy; the feeling of him that close to her – _inside _of her – was completely overwhelming, and she needed to feel everything that he could give her. She raised her hips tentatively to his to encourage him to start moving and _God _it felt good.

Damon groaned softly when her hips met his and he began to thrust slowly in and out of her, steadily and rhythmically. Her heel pressed into the back of his thigh was driving him crazy. Every time he moved, their flesh met again, lined up so perfectly, so beautifully, setting fire to his body. He suddenly brought one of his hands down to tangle with one of hers, completely entwining their fingers as he moved.

Elena clenched against him and began to move faster, the arrival of her need slowly moving through her. She squeezed his hand tighter and suddenly brought his face down to hers with her other hand and kissed him fiercely, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. She sucked the liquid through her lips and moaned at the taste of him; sweet and sultry, just like she remembered.

Damon gasped softly, watching her take his blood from him, and began to thrust faster, feeling his orgasm curling against the tight muscles of his stomach. He felt her clench around him, felt the first waves of her own pleasure and that was _enough_.

"Damon," Elena whimpered, her mouth suddenly at his neck as her body lost all control. The waves of pleasure started out small, but suddenly she was rocking against him as hard as she could, letting herself go completely. She felt the seemingly endless contractions as she gasped for her air, groaning out incoherent things into his sweat-coated flesh. She tightened her legs around him even more.

Damon's body shook as he cried out her name, his own body going into shockwaves of pleasure. He buried his own face on her neck, breathing hotly against her as his muscles tightened and he was suddenly releasing his seed into her, his lower body shaking and jerking against hers uncontrollably. And then her hand was on his cheek stroking his skin softly. He looked down at her, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes before kissing her lips chastely.

Elena returned the kiss and whispered, "I love you, Damon Salvatore," against his swollen lips. She never wanted the feeling of their bare flesh pressed against each other to end.

"I love you, too," Damon returned, carefully pulling out of her and then laying next to her on the bed. He draped a sheet over them and then pulled her close to his body. He never wanted to let her go; never wanted to live without her warm body pressed tightly against his. She gave him something he had never had before: love and security.

Elena rested her head against his chest and kissed his collarbone. "Damon," she murmured softly, "I want to spend _eternity _with you; for me, there will never be another. It will only ever be you and I think it's always _been _you. You need to know that I'm going to protect you just as fiercely as you protect me."

Damon looked down and his blue eyes met her brown ones. "I know," he said, his voice wavering slightly. "And that scares me more than you can imagine." He stroked her hair softly with the back of his hand. "I love you, Elena. You've saved my life in more ways than one."

Elena didn't say anything; she simply touched her lips gently to his before shutting her eyes and leaning her head against his solid, warm chest. "_Forever_," she whispered. "That's what we are." She found his hand and squeezed it tightly before letting waves of relaxation roll over her. Pure exhaustion set in and before she even realized it, she was sleeping deeply, her hand still entwined with Damon's.

Damon, though, had a difficult time sleeping, his mind more awake than his body. He was content to watch over Elena until he finally felt his eye lids drooping, and he thought that he could still hear Klaus in his mind, still feel the compulsion ebbing slowly through his brain. And he inherently knew, at that very moment, that if he wanted to save Elena, he was going to have to die.

If it meant saving the one person who had ever loved him back in his life, then he was perfectly content with death. And though he tried to ignore it, he could hear another voice whispering at him; Elena's voice. He heard that one loud and clear: "Turn me and we're all saved," it said, echoing through his weary mind.

Damon shuddered softly against her, ignoring the warm tears suddenly rolling down his cheeks. He rested his head in the crook of Elena's neck, holding her even more tightly against him. The voices were unsettling, but he knew one thing for damn sure: he was not going to give up without a fight.

He loved Elena and he would willingly give up _anything _and _everything _to Klaus to protect her...including his own life. He shivered, stroking Elena's wrist softly, armed with the newfound knowledge of what he had to do, as the ice encasing his soul finally began to melt. _This, this right here_, he thought, _is love. And no one can take that away, even in death._

For Damon, the return had forged a brave new world, even as bad moons rose and he was forced to revisit memory lane. He knew that it was an instance of kill or be killed, for there was no 'plan B' to save them this time. The masquerade of people in his life – Rose, Katerina – had inadvertently helped him protect Elena from the sacrifice.

By the light of the moon, the descent had exposed him wholly for what he was, including deeply rooted issues with his father. Never would he cry wolf, even if he was forced into moments of trickery and betrayal at an unplanned dinner party with uninvited house guests.

To keep Elena safe, to protect this girl whom he loved so completely and so beautifully, he would have to know his enemy; he would store his energy and save the last dance for Klaus. "On the last day," he whispered, closing his eyes as sleep finally claimed him, "the sun also rises, even as I lay dying."

* * *

_Goodnight, sweetheart, well it's time to go,  
Goodnight, sweetheart, well it's time to go,  
I hate to leave you, but I really must say,  
Goodnight, sweetheart, goodnight._

-The Spaniels, "Goodnight, Sweetheart, Goodnight"

_Fin_


End file.
